


Mischief Managed

by Kylo_Skywalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, F/M, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Spells & Enchantments, The Flying Ford Anglia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28728399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylo_Skywalker/pseuds/Kylo_Skywalker
Summary: Vulpecula Malfoy is a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry whose life had turned on its head when she was sorted into Gryffindor among the Weasley family, and later Hermione Granger and the ever infamous Harry Potter. Hogwarts was supposed to be the girl's break from her estranged father and haughty mother but when things start going wary at the school, it's up to Vulpecula and her newfound friends to figure out what to do and how to save those from the looming threat of Lord Voldemort.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Original Male Character(s), Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Bravery & Chivalry

Being born as a Malfoy, it was already planned that you’d join the cunning folk of Slytherin during your first year of Hogwarts. However, twelve year old Vulpecula got something that was unexpected. _Gryffindor._ That one word was the ultimate dagger that was plunged directly into the Malfoy family when the Sorting Hat had declared the housing for the young girl. It caused so much of a stir that her father Lucius personally marched into Dumbledore’s chambers the very next day and demanded that the Sorting Hat reevaluate his choice. Stubborn like how her father was, the Sorting Hat was keen on the statement that he had made no mistake, and there wasn’t much left to say after that. Her father stormed out and took his pride, and all the hope that he had instilled in his daughter with him. 

As the first Malfoy to ever be sorted into Gryffindor, that honorary rug of her family was yanked out from under the poor girl and she fell into a shadow which had the entire school whispering secrets about her. Luckily for Vulpecula, she had already found a place with a Second Year boy with ginger hair named George Weasley. 

George had met her on Platform 9 ¾, seeing her looking completely lost. “First time?” He asked her, a hint of a smile etched on his face.

“Am I really that pathetic for you to notice?” She joked back at him. 

That simple exchange, whether either one had realized, was the start of their ever growing friendship. 

When other First Years were being sorted after, Vulpecula had made her way to the Gryffindor table where her fellow mates cheered her on and landed eyes on George. She sat next to him, speaking with him with a sense of uncertainty of her placement until she realized that something was off about the boy. The small gap in between his front teeth was gone but he looked identical to him—then it dawned on her; the mere thought had almost slipped her mind from the shock of being placed as a Gryffindor student. George had mentioned he had an older twin brother named Fred and he was not joking in the slightest. 

Vulpecula apologized and introduced herself, offering out a hand. Fred shook it but not before making a crack at how the Gryffindor colors wouldn’t match well with her platinum blonde hair. The girl snickered at the joke, taking it with a mere grain of salt and was grateful that she now had two friends—which quickly became three. 

In Charms class Vulpecula sat next to a girl who got sorted into Ravenclaw by the name of Nyla Sparks. She was half blood, her mother being a witch while her father was a muggle but none of that mattered. She was quite bright for her age and Vulpecula didn’t expect anything less from her. They were taught Wingardium Leviosa by Professor Flitwick who was the Head of Ravenclaw, and Nyla’s wand caught Vulpecula’s eye because it was unlike anyone else’s. It was a 12 inch and one fourth black walnut wand that ended in a small transparent crystal being held in place by a spacer of the small dark brown hilt. With a swish and a flick of her wrist, without even needing to say the words aloud, the feather floated directly up and into the air. 

Speechless the whole class, even Professor Flitwick was. To use an incantation withouting verbally expressing it took a great deal of practice, as it required concentration and mental discipline alone. Nyla had mastered it flawlessly and Vulpecula smiled widely, she just knew that the girl and her would get along swimmingly. 

George, Fred, Nyla, and Vulpecula became a little group of their own. The girls supported the twins during their Quidditch games and sat with them during their studies. During breakfast, Nyla would sneak over from the Ravenclaw table and sit with Vulpecula and the boys until the very much older Weasley brother named Percy would shoosh her away to go and join her own house table. Vulpecula wasn’t a very big fan of the boy but tolerated him since he was a Prefect of Gryffindor, and of course, the brother of Fred and George. 

The second year Vulpecula and Nyla flew in a school carriage pulled by Thestrals, and they both were giggling as they stared out and over the Black Lake eyed the glistening lights of Hogwarts beaming off the watery surface. The sight was prettier than it was the previous year, when they were in boats and stared up at the looming building that seemed more intimidating than anything else. 

In the Great Hall, Vulpecula was in her robes and hat, sitting in between George and Fred as she eyed the First Years strolling in and seeing the area for the first time—especially the floating candles and bewitched ceiling that reflected the night sky. She recognized another red haired boy and figured that it was the boys’ younger brother Ronald. Her eyes then skimmed, catching sight of her little brother Draco before they finally landed on a brown haired boy who wore glasses and had green emerald eyes. A strange feeling washed over her and she kept her attention glued onto him, watching as he gathered at the front of the room and listened to Albus Dumbledore speak about the off limits destinations. 

Once he was finished Minerva McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and began calling out names. The first was a bushy haired girl named Hermione Granger and she was sorted into Gryffindor. Vulpecula and the boys cheered as she smiled, galloping down and sat in front of them on the other side of the table, right next to Percy. 

“Congratulations.” George said, using the exact same smile he used to greet Vulpecula for the first time. 

The clapping died down and the next name was called: Draco Malfoy. Vulpecula stilled, watching as her little brother walked up to the stool. His own platinum blond hair slicked back like how their father always told him to do since he’d look more posh and redefined. He looked rather nervous and his own blue eyes locked in with Vulpecula as he sat on the stool, McGonagall about to place the Sorting Hat on his head. 

With the hat overly hovering his head by a few measling millimeters, it had shouted its decision quick and sharply. “Slytherin!” Vulpecula knew as much as she began clapping slowly and softly. Draco wandered off to the Slytherin table that was behind them, comfortably making himself a home. 

“Chin up, Lu,” George uttered in her right ear.

Fred then gently nudged her in the left side of her rib cage. “Yeah, look quite ugly with a frown.” He joked as a girl was placed in Hufflepuff and everyone cheered for her. 

“Ronald Weasley.” 

The boy was nervous, scooting himself back on the stool as the hat was placed upon his head. “ _Ha!_ ” The Sorting Hat exclaimed. “Another Weasley. I know just what to do with you. Gryffindor!” 

Fred and George straightened themselves out, Percy as well as they cheered on their baby brother. He sat next to Fred, a huge grin on his face as he eyed his family, Hermione, and even Vulpecula. 

“Harry Potter.” McGonagall stated and everyone began hushed whispers, trying to get peeks at the boy with glasses. 

Vulpecula watched the boy that she was strangely drawn to head up to the stool. From her mother and father, she knew about him very well. He was known for his reputation of being the one who survived Lord Voldemort’s attack while his mother and father were killed. She wondered how a baby would be able to withstand something such as the Killing Curse but considering magical creatures and plenty of other things of the wizarding world, anything could be possible. 

The Sorting Hat took his time on where to place the Boy Who Lived. He suggested Slytherin but he didn’t want it, he willed not to be placed there. Finally, the Sorting Hat claimed him for Gryffindor which caused an uproar of smiles and cheers from the table. 

“We got Potter. We got Potter. We got Potter.” Fred and George kept on cheering, and Vulpecula couldn’t help but laugh at them with such delight. If only she had known from that day forward that everything would soon unfold. 

Borgin & Burks was a place that unsettled Vulpecula more than anything else imaginable, _well_ , Knockturn Alley mostly. She wore her black cloak that had a Gryffindor crest embroidered on it and much to her dismay, her father Lucius pretended not to see it and solely focused on her brother Draco who carried a small black chest in his arms. 

A stooped man by the name of Mr. Borgin emerged from the back room, seeing Lucius. “Oh, Master Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again.” He lifted his head, seeing the two children. “And young Master Malfoy and Miss Malfoy too. Delighted.” 

Lucius peers over his shoulder at his kids, slightly grimacing at Vulpecula’s cloak and focuses back on Mr. Borgin. The old man had bad teeth that were rotting and had bags and very prominent crinkles in the corners of his eyes. His mossy brown hair wasn’t too messy but rather kept well clean and Vulpecula wondered how. If the man could brush his hair and keep it neat and scrubbed, why not his teeth? 

“I must say, just in today and very reasonably—” 

“I’m not buying today, Borgin. I’m selling.” Lucius interrupted. 

“Selling?” He pondered, his voice silk and somewhat greasy like his appearance. 

“Draco.” 

The boy listened, setting the box up on the counter and Vulpecula steered herself away. She would rather be in Diagon Alley, getting what she needed for her Third Year of Hogwarts but instead she was in a crummy and dusted shop. A shop that sold objects of dark magic and many other magically dangerous artifacts; a glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a blood-stained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Sometimes the girl wondered if the co-owner of Borgin’s, Caractacus Burke, had fallen victim to one of them. She hadn’t seen him in a long while. 

Vulpecula drifted towards a large black cabinet, seeing that it was a Crushing Cabinet and got the very underwhelming sensation that felt familiar to her. Her mind began to shift, ears listening in and focusing on what her father was uttering to the older man. “You are aware, no doubt, that the Ministry of Magic is conducting more raids on private houses. There’s even rumors of a new Muggle Protection Act.” 

Borgin shakes his head, tisking with disgust. “Pure wizard blood is counting for less everywhere, I’m afraid.” 

_Aren’t you, Half-blood?_ Vulpecula wanted to swivel around and ask him but she bit her tongue, keeping quiet. 

Lucius snarled, his long nostrils flaring. “Not with me.” 

Vulpecula carefully peered over her shoulder at her father, the idea of her best friend Nyla being a considerable threat towards Lucius made her skin crawl. She frowns and sees Draco moving towards the Hand of Glory, inspecting it. 

“Anyway,” her father started up again, “I brought a few items from home that might prove, uh, embarrassing were the Ministry to call.” He watches as Borgin opens the box, taking out vials and other items. “Just poisons and the like.” 

A tingle crept up the back of Vulpecula’s spine and seeped deeply into her bones, causing her entire body to rotate delicately. Her eyes right away found a journal within Borgin’s hands, his eyes wide with gratification. 

“Look at this,” he marveled. 

Lucius placed his gloved hand down on it, making a type of smacking noise. “That _particular_ item is not for sale.” 

Borgin nodded. “I understand. It has unique qualities. One wouldn’t want to see it falling into the wrong hands.” 

Vulpecula took a step closer, seeing the leather bound cover and the golden corners of it. It was a very ordinary journal and yet, her father was quick to the draw to say that it wasn’t up for bidding. Lucius took back the journal and watched as Borgin began grabbing currency to pay for what he took but the girl paid no mind as Draco stepped in front of the cabinet and touched it. 

The silver snake head on her father’s cane came down, striking nearby Draco’s face which caused the boy to inhale abruptly, facing the man. “What did I say?” 

Borgin, believing to be slick in the moment, took back two Galleons from the stack that was supposed to be given to Lucius but once he peered up, meeting Vulpecula’s eyes he momentarily paused. The girl nodded for him to proceed and turned away as if she saw nothing. 

“Touch nothing.” Draco recalled. 

“Exactly.” 

“Sorry, Father.” The boy sarcastically retorted back. 

Lucius mustered up words to say but allowed them to fade out, dropping his cane from the cabinet. “Come on. We’re going.” He then eyed Mr. Borgin. “You can keep the box.” 

The old man hunched over in a bow. “It’s a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Malfoy. Always a pleasure.” 

The family strolled on out and Vulpecula was able to breathe in the fresh air, making way directly for Diagon Alley with the mission of getting everything she needed on her Hogwarts supply list, and most specially, a pet for her dorm. Just imagining making a companion filled her with happiness that she couldn’t contain it, she began quickening her pace, not bothering to wait for her brother who no doubtfully was being spoken to by their father. 

The cobblestone street brought a new sense of excitement to Vulpecula. There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments, windows were stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels’ eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon, etc. Every year might’ve been the same but it never failed to feel new and extraordinary. 

A girl with bushy hair and almond skin stood in her Ravenclaw robe, speaking with an older man who seemed completely baffled at the sight of everything that was happening around them. Vulpecula recognized the girl as Nyla and who must’ve been her muggle born father—no doubt it being his first time in Diagon Alley. 

The platinum blonde wandered over and grinned from ear to ear. “And are you lost?” 

“Vulpecula!” Nyla happily hugged her tightly. “I’ve missed you terribly. You’ve gotten my letters, correct?” 

“That I did. Very lovely penmanship you have, I must say as well.” She cooed.

Out of the hug she was let go, Nyla took a step back and stared directly towards a small creature that was hidden away behind the glass window, in a cage, of the Magical Menagerie. 

“You wanna have a look?” Vulpecula offered. 

Nyla shook her head. “Best not. Need to focus on more important things to get before I can squander my sickles.” 

Mrs. Sparks came out, wearing a huge smile and once her eyes landed on Vulpecula, she beamed. “Vulpecula, is it? Heard a lot about you from our little Nyla cub.” 

“Mum,” Nyla groaned at the nickname, her ears turning hot. 

“You seem to be a lovely dear, especially for a Malfoy—”

Nyla’s doey brown eyes grew in size. “Mum!” 

Vulpecula softly glanced down at her shoes, feeling uncomfortable but just nodded it off. “It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Doesn’t bother me all that much.”

“ _Oh_ , I’m terribly sorry,” Mrs. Sparks shook her head as her husband stepped up next to her, holding the list of needed supplies for his daughter. “I sometimes speak before I think. Can you ever forgive me?” 

The girl nodded, and off she went with the Sparks family. 

Mrs. Sparks had darker skin than Nyla which reminded Vulpecula of her jacobean wooden bedframe. Her dark brown hair was tucked behind her ears which showed off her yellow earrings and the ends were curled outwards perfectly. She still managed to speak with an American accent despite moving to Britain when she was eight. She wore light colors; a cream colored jumper with a yellow cardigan vest and slacks. Her name was Evelyn. Meanwhile Mr. Sparks skin was the color of eggshells and his hair was light brown, short yet shaggy. He was Welsh, supported a four o’clock shadow and had on a dark blue button up that was tucked into black trousers. And his name was Stefan. 

Down the winding, cobbled street, the Sparks and Vulpecula headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. A large banner stretched across the upper windows stated that Gilderoy Lockhart was going to be signing his autobiography Magical Me that day between 12:30 to 4:30 PM. 

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Sparks’ age. A harassed looking wizard stood at the door, saying, “Calmly, please, ladies. Don’t push, there . . . mind the books, now . . .”

The group squeezed inside. Nyla grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 while Vulpecula peered up at the line, seeing a familiar pair of boys. She smiled instantly, recognizing them as Fred and George Weasley. Further inspection, she could their other brothers Percy and Ron, their little sister, their parents and another boy who she just knew was Harry Potter. 

Suddenly, Gilderoy Lockhart came into view, wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his dazzlingly white teeth flashing the crowd and his golden wavy locks resembling liquid gold. Vulpecula caught sight of Mrs. Weasley being breathless, patting her hair to make sure it was formal. 

A short, irritable looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted blinding flashes every time he took a picture. 

“Let me by, madam. Thank you.” He moved to get a better shot, excusing himself in front of a girl who Vulpecula noticed as Hermione Granger. “This is for the Daily Prophet.” 

Gilderoy Lockhart smiled for the picture and he looked over, seeing Harry. He stared. Then he grinned. “It can’t be. Harry Potter?” 

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. “Harry Potter!” The photographer for the Daily Prophet dived forward, seized Harry’s cloak, and pulled him to the front next to Gilderoy. 

Gilderoy then yanked on his arm, tugging him into his side. “Nice big smile, Harry.” He said through his gleaming teeth. “Together, you and I rate the front page.” 

Vulpecula exchanged a look with Nyla as the photographer snapped the picture of the two and glanced back up at the older man who still clamped Harry at his side. Something rubbed her the wrong way about the man. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said loudly, waiting for quiet. “What an extraordinary moment this is. When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography Magical Me . . .” 

The crowd began cheering and ladies, all younger and older, were mesmerized by him—even Hermione. Vulpecula glances to Nyla once again, this time seeing her pulling a disgruntled face. The two of them knew this man seemed to only be chasing fame within the wizarding world rather than being authentic; he was a real class act of a tactless phony. 

“Which, incidentally, is currently celebrating its twenty-seventh week atop the Daily Prophet bestseller list, he had no idea that he would in fact,” Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, “be leaving with my entire collected works. Free of charge.” 

Harry found himself being presented with a stack of books being handed over to him instantaneously, staggering slightly under the weight as the crowd cheered and clapped. Vulpecula watched as he managed to make his way out of the spotlight and back to the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley took the books from Harry and got in line to get them signed, telling them all to wait outside. 

Nyla mumbled something and Vulpecula turned to her, eyebrows furrowed. “Wot?” 

“Lockhart is a _very_ skilled man to be facing off against such dark creatures as he claims in his book.” She remarked, skimming a few pages of his book Magical Me. 

“Totally,” the girl rolled her eyes, shaking her head and seeing Fred and George reading a random book nearby them, off in the corner. Nudging Nyla, she motions to them and nods, placing the book off to the side and follows her over. 

“Hi!” Nyla piped up and saw that they were reading a Wizardo Graphie. “You two reading comics?” 

“Yeah, loads of fun.” George smiles. 

Fred then spoke. “We normally read them whenever we’re in here. Can never really buy ‘em, anyways.” 

“Here,” Vulpecula reached into her pocket, taking out a few Sickles and handed them over.

George was in awe. “You’d really give us that to get this?” 

“Why not?” She shrugged. “I have plenty, more than what I know what to do with. Besides, you two are my good friends.” 

“Thank you, Lula.” Fred smiled at her, taking the silver money and split half with his brother. “We appreciate it.” 

Harry, Ron, Percy, and the little Weasley sibling came over holding her cauldron which told Vulpecula that she was starting her first year at Hogwarts. No doubt she’d be a Gryffindor like her older brothers. 

Behind the Malfoy girl, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and a voice she had no trouble recognizing. “Bet you love that, didn’t you, Potter?” 

They all looked, being face to face with her little brother Draco, who was wearing his usual sneer. 

“Famous Harry Potter, can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.” 

“Leave him alone,” the little Weasley stepped up and spoke, glaring at Draco. 

“Look, Potter. You got yourself a girlfriend.” Draco drawled and she went scarlet in the face. 

“Now, now, Draco, play nicely.” Draco and Vulpecula’s father appeared behind him, the snake head of his cane on his shoulder and making him step off to the side. 

Vulpecula drew a step backwards, accidently bumping into Fred which made her go unbalanced for a moment and he rested his hand on her lower back, keeping her in place so she wouldn’t tumble. 

Lucius sneered in the same manner that Draco did, eyeing Harry. “Mr. Potter. Lucius Malfoy.” He extended his hand out and Harry took it into his, the two greeting rather formally. “We meet at last. Forgive me,” he then pulled Harry forwards and used his cane to part his bangs that rested in front of his forehead. “Your scar is legend, as of course, is the wizard who gave it to you.” 

“Voldemort killed my parents.” Harry told him and Lucius let him go, scowling. “He was nothing more than a murderer.” 

Hermione fought her way over, clutching her stack of Lockhart books and stood next to Draco as Lucius spoke. “You must be very brave to mention his name, or very foolish.” 

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.” Hermione stated proudly. 

He turned to her, thinking for a mere second. “And you must be,” he then gave a look to Draco, “Miss Granger.” Draco nodded and Luicus peered back. “Yes. Draco’s told me all about you and your parents.” 

Hermione then peers over to where her father and mother stood, talking to Mr. Weasley and even Nyla’s parents. 

“Muggles, aren’t they?” She turns back, glowering at the man while his eyes drifted from her parents then danced upon the interracial pair. 

He recognized the woman right away as Evelyn, a former Hufflepuff student of Hogwarts that was three years older than him. He had learned that she married a muggle named Stefan but had never quite kept tabs on them, well that was until now. He had heard Vulpecula speaking with their house elf Dobby during the late nights about her new friends that she met at Hogwarts, especially one that was born half blood. 

“And that’ll be your parents, I assume.” Lucius asked Nyla and the girl just froze. Vulpecula had told her about her father’s belief of muggle borns and half-bloods, and she had already been ridiculed enough the previous year by Miles Bletchley. She didn’t need more. “Witch mother, but a muggle father. A step up from Miss Granger.” 

“Dad,” Vulpecula started in a warning tone but he’d ignored her. 

Lucius quickly adjusted to focusing on the twin boys behind her, Percy, Ron, and lastly, the red headed girl. “Let’s see. Red hair, vacant expressions, tatty secondhand book.” He then reached into the girl’s cauldron, picking up her one book that looked worn and rugged. “You must be the Weasleys.” 

Vulpecula was about to open her mouth whenever Mr. Weasley showed up, stepping up in front of her father to eye the kids. “Children, it’s mad in here. Let’s go outside.” 

“Well, well, well. Weasley senior.” 

“Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly. 

“Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, all those extra raids? I do hope they’re paying you overtime, but judging by the states of this, I’d say not.” 

He showed him the very battered copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration that he extracted from his daughter. 

“What’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?” 

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than what his daughter had when Draco called her Harry’s girlfriend. “We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy.” 

“Clearly,” said Lucius, placing the girl’s book back into her cauldron and his pale eyes strayed to the Grangers and the Sparks. “Associating with muggles, and I thought your family could sink no lower.” 

“Dad.” Vulpecula gasped in disbelief, completely embarrassed. 

Arthur wanted to attack him, to shout, to fight but for his children’s sake and for Vulpecula, whom he came to know and cherish as his own through what Fred and George had told him, he kept the peace. He played the polite card. 

Lucius stepped back and away from Mr. Weasley and eyed his daughter. “Vulpecula, I’m only going to make this clear once.” He announced in a low, studious voice, eyes filled with malice. “You _may_ be a Gryffindor within Hogwarts but outside those walls, you _are_ a Malfoy. And our family knows better than to be in the company of such weasels.” 

Vulpecula clenched her jaw in place, her shoulders feeling heavy on her. 

Lucius gave one last look at Arthur Weasley. “See you at work.” He beckoned to Draco and Vulpecula, then swept from the shop. 

Draco stepped forward, flicking his eyebrows up at Harry and Ron. “See you at school.” 

Bashful and wanting the ability to disappear, Vulpecula glanced towards Fred and George, Nyla, the other Weasley siblings, Harry, Hermione, then lastly up at Mr. Weasley. They seemed to feel sorry for the girl, expressions easy to read and understand. It left her heart pounding harder in her ears, she picks at the skin on the side of her thumb—a nervous habit of hers. 

“I’m . . . I’m so sorry.” She gulped as Nyla and Hermione’s parents came walking up with Mrs. Weasley. and turned away sluggishly. Head drooping, Vulpecula left Flourish and Blotts and joined her father and brother up on the street. 

On the way out, she just managed to hear Nyla’s mother speak to her husband and the Grangers. “Rotten to the core, the whole Malfoy family is. Everyone knows they have bad blood.” 

The end of summer vacation made Vulpecula relieved because she desperately wanted out of the Malfoy manor and into the cozy and comfortable atmosphere that was provided to her by the Gryffindor Common Room. She woke at dawn, gathering her quills and last minute items before wishing Dobby a good day, and left for King’s Cross. 

The scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express came into view after the Malfoy siblings carefully ran through the solid barrier divings platforms nine and ten. Draco got prepared for the Slytherin cart and Vulpecula got on the Gryffindor one, hearing owls hooting all over as she placed her luggage in an empty compartment. She then boarded, heading through the trolley to find herself an empty place to sit. 

After a few minutes of searching, Vulpecula sat down and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Silence washed over her until she sensed the presence of a person coming near her. She fluttered her eyes open, the door of the compartment slid open and she saw Nyla standing there in her Ravenclaw sweater with her hair back in a low bun and wearing a blue necklace her father had given her. 

“‘Ello.” She wore her smile. “I’ve gotten your letters. You had no need to apologize for what your father said.” 

“No, I did. You, Hermione, and the Weasleys.” 

Two redheaded boys poke their faces over Nyla’s shoulders

“What about us?” George asked. 

Vulpecula sits up more in her seat, placing her hands into her lap and eyes the three of them. “For what my father said, about your families . . .” 

“No worries,” Fred limboed past Nyla’s small frame and sat across from the girl. “Dad quite thought you were charming for a Malfoy.” 

“Yeah!” George piped up and sat down next to her, Nyla then took a seat next to Fred. “He was already saying if you’d ever want to visit the Burrow, you’d be more than welcomed too.” 

Being still liked even after the horribleness that was her father, Vulpecula felt her cheeks go pink. She looked quickly out of the window, pretending that she was more interested in seeing the train beginning to move and embark on its journey towards Hogwarts. 

Half an hour had passed effortlessly, the constant bickering between Nyla and Fred over what type of fireworks were the best had helped lose track of time for Vulpecula. They were now speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. The girl kept quiet, watching the lanes flick past until there was a new noise outside in the corridor. 

The four of them looked, seeing the smiling, dimpled woman who slid open their door. “Anything off the trolley, dears?” 

Nyla got up with the twins, stepped out into the corridor and bought Chocolate Frogs as well as a Cauldron Cake; her favorites. George got himself a Pumpkin Pasty and Fred a carton of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans—which they were able to get from the leftover money that Vulpecula gave them two weeks ago. They played with their silver Sickles and bronze Knuts before coming back to the compartment. 

Excitedly, Nyla began opening her Chocolate Frogs hastily to see what famous witch or wizard she’s got to add to her ever growing collection. She squealed with delight, seeing Merlin and Druidess Cliodna. Now all she needed was Dumbledore and Morgana. 

Fred sprang open the beans and tossed one to George and he caught it in his mouth, chewing more coughing on the green candy. “I reckon that was booger flavored.” He gagged. 

The older twin chuckled, taking one for himself then offered two to Vulpecula. Daring, she shoved the two small beans into her mouth and bit into them without a second thought. She then tasted the fruity flavor of strawberry and the buttery warmth of toast. A good combination that reminded her of strawberry jammed toast for breakfast. 

Heading farther north, London was soon far behind them and replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide, purplish moors, a city alive with cars and villages with churches. Vulpecula began to feel parched from all the flavored beans and stood, excusing herself to find the plump trolley witch to buy ice cold pumpkin juice. 

Down the corridor, Vulpecula kept her eyes peeled as she strutted through which made her whitish blonde hair flow back behind her. She entered through another passenger car, one that mostly held Slytherins house members upon others. Strolling past one of the casements, Vulpecula jerked her head over and stopped completely. She stared out at the fast moving landscape for a moment, or two. A tingling sensation traveled up her spine and she furrowed her brows in deep concentration. 

“Wait, wait. Vulpecula.” Nyla scurried after her, pardoning herself as she almost ran into Cedric Diggory, a member of the Hufflepuff house as he was trying to enter his compartment. 

The girl came to a gradual stop, straightening out her sweater and necklace, and made sure that her bun was still in place and hadn’t come loose during her sprint to catch up with her friend. Nyla then checked to make sure that her wizard cards weren’t damaged or crinkled. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I join you. I was getting thirsty myself, and of course, you can only handle the Weasley twins so much at a time and I—” Nyla remarked all in one breath until she saw that Vulpecula was still gazing out of the window. “Is something wrong?” 

“Could’ve sworn I just saw a flying car . . .” 

Nyla was confused, looking back out at the view. “A flying _car_?” 

“Ford Anglia, to be specific.” 

“And . . . Why would there be a flying car?” 

“I think . . . I think it’s following the express.” 

Vulpecula locked eyes with Nyla; they were both flabbergasted by what the words that left the Malfoy girl’s lips but still, Nyla believed her because if there was one thing she knew about Vulpecula, it was that she wasn’t a liar. 

“Why would a Ford Anglia—a _flying_ Ford Anglia—be following us to Hogwarts?” Nyla pondered. 

Vulpecula shrugged. “Maybe someone missed the train.” 

Nyla had leaned up against the wall, next to the window and stared up at the girl who was only an inch taller than her. “So we have a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang situation?” 

The girl gave her an expression and Nyla nodded knowingly, realizing that she wouldn’t even understand the reference since she had a Pure-blood lifestyle and wasn’t used to Muggle things.

Behind Vulpecula, Nyla then saw what Vulpecula had been talking about. There, flying next to the Hogwarts Express and spinning out of control, was a sky blue Ford Anglia. She muttered her friend’s name and she peered over her shoulder, seeing the vehicle as it rose higher into the air. 

The girls rushed over to the other window, the tingling creeping back up on Vulpecula. The two watched as the car rocketed on its side and the passenger’s door opened and out came a brown haired boy who was clinging onto the door handle for dear life. Nyla and Vulpecula had their mouths opened, astonished at what they were witnessing. 

“Is that Harry Potter?” Nyla gasped. 

Muffled yells ensued and Vulpecula was able to see who the driver was. Ronald Weasley. “Yeah. And Fred and George’s little brother, Ron.” 

Dashing back through the corridors, they raced to get to a window that allowed them open it to try and help Harry out. When they finally found one, Vulpecula yanked it down and stuck her head out, the wind whipping at her hair as she squinted upwards. Ron was yelling for Harry to hold on and try to reach for his hand but it proved fruitless. 

She stuck her head back in and looked at Nyla. “Do you know any spells for this sorta thing?” 

“Technically,” Nyla began to say, “we’re outside of school and magic casting is forbidden.” 

“We’re on our way to Hogwarts.” Vulpecula defended. “Besides if it’s to save someone’s life, I’m sure that Dumbledore wouldn’t expel me for it.” 

Nyla couldn’t argue that. 

“Spell? Anything?” 

The girl quickly thought about it, but nothing was popping up. “I don’t know! I’ve never been under this kind of pressure before. Let alone to think about it quickly. I don’t even believe there is one.” 

“Can we make one up?” Vulpecula asked hurriedly, looking back up at Harry’s flailing legs and saw him staring down at the deadly fall that he was moments away from taking. 

Nyla’s eyes went huge. “On the spot?! Vulpecula, we do that we could potentially do more harm than good! It’s highly dangerous. It’s not rational.”

“Letting Harry Potter die after what his parents did for him isn’t either!” Vulpecula shouted back and withdrew her wand, her fingers finding the grooves on her handle. 

Nyla examined it, never having really paid attention to it before. Vulpecula’s wand was thirteen inches and three quarters, looking to be made of pine wood. The handle was pure black with a honeycomb pattern and a vine-like spiral that was narrow at the top where the handle began with a knot in the wood then widened out down to the base; it reminded the girl of a fox tail. She also made sure to notice that the knot at the top of the handle was wrapped in the thin and narrow vine but rather than a spiral, it made Xs on either side before being tied off. The black from the handle faded out to a dark shade of brown then at the very tip, the very last two inches of the wand, was a milky brown—a fine creamy white color. Nyla would’ve been lying if she said that her heart didn’t stop right then and there. There was ever only one wizard who had a wand of that exact same shade. The most vile, diabolic, and feared dark wizard within the wizarding world. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

Impulse ran through Vulpecula as she heard Harry and Ron yelling as she stuck her head back out of the window. She was struggling with words, her brown eyes still glued up on the Ford Anglia and her hand gripped the handle of her wand more firmly. Suddenly, and without hesitation, she acted. 

Vulpecula’s wand raised high above her head and with the flick of her wrist, she sternly pointed at the vehicle and Harry. She shouted with authority, “ _Perfectulis!_ ” 

An orange glow emitted from the tip of her wand and shot upwards. The spell thrust Harry back into the passenger’s seat, the door slamming shut as he was in and the Ford Anglia fixed itself to fly straight and without any problems. Relieved, Vulpecula got herself back into the train and shut the window before turning to Nyla who was stunned. 

“How the bloody hell did you manage that?” 

To be honest, Vulpecula had no idea herself. Something just came over her and she just . . did it. 

“Maybe just luck, I guess?” She shrugged it off and put on a sincere smile, sticking her wand down into her sock and boot. “Now, let’s get that pumpkin juice.” 

Several hours later, the Hogwarts Express winded its way past a snow-capped mountain as the windows were blanketed by the oncoming night sky. Stars were blossoming in the blackness. The whistle blew and Fred and Nyla glanced out, seeing the dark horizon and the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle silhouetted on the cliff over the lake. 


	2. The Voice & Beware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm anti-JK Rowling, however, I will be using some scenes and dialogue from the books to match and fit in with the movies because 1. We deserved more content for Fred and George. 2. Majority of Ron's book lines were given to Movie Hermione and Ron deserves to have his character aspects. & 3\. Peeves is awesome. That's all.

“Nyla,” Vulpecula groaned and stared her friend in the eye as she grinned widely. The girl huffed and began drawing four cards from the deck, studying her handful of red, yellow, green, and blue cards. “You know, this isn’t fair.” She teased. “I’ve never played this Muggle game of Uno before—let alone _ever_ played a Muggle game.”

“You’re just learning.” Nyla commented and placed down a blue four. 

The two girls sat in the Great Hall, Nyla at the Gryffindor table across from Vulpecula that was laden with bowls of crisps, apples, mountains of sandwiches, doughnuts, and dishes of eggs and bacon for those that missed breakfast for some reason or another. The enchanted ceiling mirrored a dull, cloudy grey sky. George sat on Nyla’s left with Fred while Dean Thomas was on her right, then Neville Longbottom, and Harry and Ron. On Vulpecula’s right sat Oliver Wood and Angelia Johnson, and on her left was Seamus Finnigan and Hermione who was reading her book. 

“Hi, Harry.” A young voice erupted and Vulpecula glanced up, seeing a blinding white flash going off which made Harry blink repeatedly. “I’m Colin Creevey. I’m in Gryffindor, too.” He said breathlessly. 

“Hi, Colin. Nice to meet you.” 

Vulpecula placed down a card to play and Nyla slapped down another. “Uno!” 

The girl drew in a deep breath, eyeing her final three cards that were in her hands then over to Nyla’s remaining one. A voice inside her head told her that Nyla had a yellow nine and she listened, peering down at her own hand again to see a green one, a blue six, and a wild card. 

George and Fred had been watching their game, taking on a bet who would win. George took on Nyla and Fred took Vulpecula, the two getting antsy since Nyla seemed to be winning and Vulpecula losing. 

They kept her eyes peeled as Vulpecula glanced back down at the card that Nyla put down before calling uno, a red six. She laid down her blue six and sat back. Nyla let out a small _hmph_ , drawing another card but it was something she couldn’t play. “Can’t go.” 

Vulpecula placed down her wild, calling, “Uno. Green.” 

Nyla drew another card, it being red and she gazed to her friend. “Can’t play.”

Vulpecula laid down her last card, winning and Fred smirked as George handed over a Sickle. “Thank you, Georgie.” 

“Shut it.” 

Overheard there was a screech and Dean had peered up, seeing an owl. “Ron, is that your owl?” 

Everyone then looked, a Strix Nebulosa owl flying with a letter in his mouth and he drew closer and closer downwards towards the table. The owl flew past the girls then crashed into the bowl of crisps, splashing them everywhere on Hermione, Harry, Ron, and even on Neville. The Slytherin table burst out in laughter and Vulpecula shot a look at her brother Draco who was sitting with Crabbe and Goyle, snickering. 

“Bloody bird’s a menace.” Ron grabbed the red envelope from his beak as his family’s owl, Errol, got up onto the table then flew away. He eyed the envelope then gulped. “Oh, no.” 

Nyla eyed the quite ordinary envelope until she saw how Neville and Ron were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode. “Is that what I think it is?” She whispered to Vulpecula.

Before the Malfoy girl could respond, Seamus announced loudly, “Look, everyone. Weasley’s got himself a Howler.” 

Once again, the Slytherin table began their laughter. 

“Go on, Ron,” said Neville in a timid voice. “I ignored one from my gran once. It was horrible.”

The boy stretched out a shaking hand, opening it up gingerly and a split second later, a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling. _“RONALD WEASLEY!”_

Ron dropped the envelope, staring down at it in pure terror and it floated upwards, forming into a set of lips. The top and bottom creases of the letter acted as teeth and the ribbon that held the envelope close with a wax seal resembled a tongue. The Howler was speaking directly to Ron, his mother’s voice making the plates and silverware rattle on the table. People were all swiveled around, listening and experiencing the pure look of horror on the young Weasley boy’s face. 

_“HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER’S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!”_

Ron nodded vigorously, showing the Howler that he completely understood what his mother had written and spoken to him. 

The Howler then turned, facing the youngest Weasley sibling who Vulpecula now knew as Ginny. She sat only a few down from her, having been sorted into Gryffindor last night. Mrs. Weasley’s voice came through again but this time, it was soft and motherly, filled with love. _“Oh, and Ginny dear, congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud.”_

The Howler then focused back on Ron, blowing its tongue in his face before ripping itself apart and the pieces drifting downwards on the table. 

Nyla frowned for the boy but couldn’t dwell on it because Vulpecula was eyeing up her schedule that she was given that morning by Professor McGonagall. “Still can’t get over originally signing up for Divination and Care of Magical Creatures but got Study of Ancient Runes instead of Divination.”

Nyla knitted her brows together. “Perhaps there had been a mistake in scheduling. Did you ask Professor McGonagall this s’mornin’ if—”

“I did, but she said that Dumbledore thinks my talents would be best suited for Ancient Runes.” 

“Well . . . at least it’s because of what Dumbledore believes is right for you?” Nyla was trying to be optimistic but wasn’t quite sure if Vulpecula would take that statement to heart but rather with a grain of salt.

“I suppose.” 

They finished lunch and went directly to Defense Against the Dark Arts, stepping inside and Vulpecula came to a halt along with Nyla. Up front of the classroom was Lockhart and he had his portraits hung up around him, all with shining smiles and suddenly the supply list of all his books made sense for this year. Her brown eyes darted around the room, seeing that it was mostly Second Years that their class was with minus two other Third Years like her and Nyla.

Nyla chose their seating right next to Neville and Seamus on the far left side of the room. Vulpecula watched as Harry and Ron came in, taking seats in front of Neville and Seamus, dead center of the class. Hermione then sat before the girls with a student from Hufflepuff. Draco then walked in with Crabbe, sitting in the very back of the class and Vulpecula offered him a wave and slight smile. Either he didn’t notice, or he ignored her, because he didn’t respond. 

Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and Vulpecula focused forwards. “Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Me,” he smiled wide. “Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class. Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of the Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award. But I don’t talk about that.” 

“He just did.” Vulpecula muttered to Nyla and the poor girl had to cover her mouth quickly to subdue the laugh that almost escaped from her lips. 

“I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her.” He smiled again and when no one laughed at his joke, he bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it. “Now, be warned. It is my job to arm yours against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind.” 

With his wand, he tapped the cage and it began rattling. 

“You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know that only no harm can befall you whilst I am here. I must ask you not to scream,” Lockhart remarked in a low voice. “It might provoke them.” 

The Second Years held their breath as Lockhart whipped off the cover. Inside were Cornish pixies; electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment that the cover had been removed, they started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest to them. 

Seamus Finnigan couldn’t control himself. He let out a snort of laughter. “Cornish pixies?” 

Vulpecula just eyed the winged creatures, her cousin Tonks had once told her that in her Fifth Year she was taught how to handle them by a woman called Patricia Rakepick who is known for being a world famous Curse Breaker. She learned how they were omnivores and that they were mischievous little buggers, liking to play pranks on people—reminded Vulpecula of Fred and George to say the least. 

“ _Freshly caught_ Cornish pixies.” Lockhart had corrected and the whole class went in snickers. “Laugh all you want but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let’s see what you make of them.” He then opened the cage. 

The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Everyone took cover under their desks while two grabbed Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a stampede of wildebeests. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore Lockhart’s pictures from the walls, upended the wastebasket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window. 

“Round them up, round them up!” Lockhart encouraged. “They’re only pixies!” 

One began tugging on Hermione’s hair and Harry grabbed a book, smacking it away. Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier on the ceiling, shouting for someone to get him down. Draco was running, swatting the pixies away from his head and Seamus was trying to grab onto the small creatures but they flew in and out, their sinister giggling taunting the boy. 

Nyla covered her head and peeked over at Lockhart to see him brandishing his wand and with four waves, he bellowed, _“Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”_

It had no effect and one of the pixies seized his wand, flying over to where the skeleton of a dragon hung and tapped the end of the wand on the chain. It broke, the entire skeleton crashing onto the floor and it caused the class to make a mad dash toward the exit. As for Lockhart, he gulped and dove up the stairs to hide in the office. 

The girl spun to Vulpecula, flabbergasted. “Lockhart just used a fake incantation and left us to defend ourselves!” She gaped over the shrilling. “Not like he’s our teacher or anything that just promised that no harm would come to us as long as he’s here.” 

“A bloody frog he is.” Vulpecula cursed. 

Having enough of the commotion, Hermione stood and withdrew her wand and pointed it up at the air at the swarm. _“Immobulus!”_ A bright blue light emitted from the tip and flashed throughout the room, all pixies ceasing movement and just floating in the air. 

Neville gazed around the room then sighed. “Why is it always me?” 

Nyla and Vulpecula stood as Harry and Ron began to help Hermione with gathering up the pixies and placing them right back into their cage. Nyla took out her wand, pointing up at Neville and used a levitation charm to get him safely down from the ceiling and back down onto the floor. Vulpecula scanned the room, shaking her head at the incredible mess that Lockhart had unleashed by releasing the Cornish pixies. Reaching into her pant pocket, she took out her wand and in a half made circle, casted her very own charm of Perfectulis. In a matter of seconds the glass windows were restored, the dragon skeleton was mended and back up hanging, Lockhart’s pictures were back on the walls, spilled ink was cleaned and books were stitched back together. The room was once again clean and appeared to be untouched. 

It was Saturday and Vulpecula was out in the middle courtyard playing Gobstones with Cedric Diggory, who was losing and getting squirts of a putrid liquid from the stones. The girl couldn’t contain her laughter as she cunningly made the Hufflepuff get sidetracked which caused her to earn points and ultimately win in the end. Cedric congratulated her on the good game and left as one of his other friends called for him. Vulpecula waved bye then over, caught sight of Nyla speaking with Ron before branching off from him and heading over to her. 

“Didn’t know you and Ron were friends?” Vulpecula was confused, staring at her friend with a slight smirk. 

“Oh, yeah,” her ears turned pink. “After the whole thing at Flourish and Blotts, Mr. Weasley wanted to speak with my father about the function of a rubber duck and pens. So we offered them to dinner at our house and I was seated next to Ron. We just began talking about our fathers, and we actually have a few things in common.” 

Vulpecula grinned widely and nodded happily. She then noticed the Slytherin Quidditch team entering the courtyard from behind Nyla’s shoulder, her amusement from Nyla’s story now turned to bafflement. “What’s Slytherin doing out here? George told me that Oliver booked the pitch today for Gryffindor.” 

“He did.” Nyla remarked and motioned to behind Vulpecula. 

She spun, seeing Oliver Wood leading the Gryffindor Quidditch team over to meet the Slytherin team. “Where do you think you’re going, Flint?” 

Marcus Flint was larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, “Quidditch practice. I got a note.”

Harry, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie all stood around Oliver as he took the note from Flint and began to read it aloud. “‘I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.’ You got a _new_ Seeker?” Oliver said, distracted. “Who?” 

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. Vulpecula took in a deep breath, seeing her brother Draco. 

Harry took a step forward. “Malfoy?”

Fred and George eyed Draco before they both shifted glance to Vulpecula and the girl folded her arms in front of her chest. She had no idea that this was happening yet still felt guilty as if she did. 

Hermione and Ron crossed the grass and had joined Vulpecula and Nyla, to see what was going on. 

“That’s right. And that’s not all that’s new this year.”

Draco held out his broom and so did the other members of the team, showing off their highly polished, brand new handles and sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under their noses in the morning sun. 

Ron was astonished, open mouthed at the seven superb broomsticks. “How did you get those?” 

“A gift from Draco’s father.” Flint said. 

“You see, Weasley, unlike some, my father can afford the best.” Draco stated. 

“Draco,” Vulpecula began. “That’s enough.” 

Hermione, sharp as she was bright, cooed, “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in. They got in on pure talent.” 

The smug look on Draco’s face flickered. “No one asked your opinion.” 

“And no one asked for you to rub in the fact that your father gives you whatever you want.” Nyla then added. 

“The both of you, thinking you’re so clever.” A pause. “My sister shouldn’t even be anywhere near you, you filthy Mudbloods.” He spat. 

There was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Draco to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, “How dare you!”, and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, “You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy. Eat slugs!” 

A loud bang echoed around the courtyard and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron’s wand that had been sellotaped, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward. 

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter.

Vulpecula, Nyla, Hermione, Harry, and his brothers came running over to his side. “Are you alright?” Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked sick, pale, and he propped himself up and onto his hands and knees. “Say something!” 

He gave an almighty belch and a slug dribbled out of his mouth, onto the grass as Colin Creevey wandered up with his camera and took a picture. “Wow! Can you turn him around, Harry?” 

“No, Colin. Get out of the way.” Harry shushed him, grabbing Ron’s one arm. He peered over at Hermione. “Let’s take him to Hagrid’s.” She nodded bravely and the pair pulled Ron up to his feet. 

Vulpecula watched the trio head off before asking Nyla if she was alright then faced Draco. She stormed up to him, getting in his face. “Do you have any idea how insensitive that was? They’re still wizards like you and I. They’re still human beings.” 

“I don’t think father—”

“He’s not here.” Vulpecula scowled then frowned, moving in closer towards her brother to whisper. “That’s the thing about Hogwarts, Draco. We can be who we really are here, not what we believe we should be.” 

Backing away from him, she motioned for Nyla to join her in visiting Hagrid’s to see how Ron was doing. 

At the edge of the forest, there sat Hagrid’s house and Nyla was the one who knocked first. Hagrid appeared and Nyla asked if she and Vulpecula were allowed in, to which he sidestepped and allowed them to enter. In the one room cabin, Ron sat on a chair looking pale and sweaty with a large copper basin resting on his lap as he kept throwing up slugs. 

“I apologize for my brother’s behavior.” Vulpecula instantly began to say to Hermione. “Our parents instilled in us the belief of being pure-blood, but I had the great fortune of being close with my cousin Tonks who’s half-blood. Her mother, my aunt, was disowned by the Malfoy family for marrying a Muggle so when my father found out about me hanging out with her, he yelled at me. Draco never got to meet her so he doesn’t know what it’s like, he only knows what our parents told him.” 

Hermione softly smiled. “Thank you, truly. I appreciate it but . . .”

“I know,” Vulpecula nodded. “Doesn’t mean much coming from me.” 

Silence fell over the room with the occasional noise of Ron throwing up more slugs. Hagrid handed Nyla and Vulpecula their own cups of treacle toffee, then got an idea to perk up the group. “Come and see what I’ve been growin’,” 

In a small vegetable patch behind Hagrid’s house were a dozen of the large pumpkins. Each was the size of a large boulder. 

“For the Halloween feast!” Hagrid happily said. “Should be big enough by then.” 

“What’ve you been feeding them?” Harry asked. 

Hagrid then looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone. “Been given’ them, you know, a bit o’help.” 

Vulpecula noticed Hagrid’s umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. She then grinned, already knowing that his old school wand was concealed inside it. Hagrid wasn’t supposed to use magic because he was expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for something that he didn’t do. She was never told what but she just knew that it was something caused by someone else and yet, he took the fall for it. 

“An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?” Hermione questioned, halfway amused and disapproving. “You’ve done a good job on them.” 

“That’s what Ginny said,” Hagrid peered to Ron. “Met her just yesterday. Said she was just lookin’ around the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin’ she might run into Harry.” He winked at Harry. “If yeh ask me, she wouldn’t say no to a signed—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry shook his head. Ron snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs. 

It was lunchtime but Vulpecula sat and just eyed her shepherd’s pie, not feeling particularly in the mood to eat—not after her brother bluntly called her two friends Mudbloods. She signed and peered around the Great Hall, seeing Nyla speaking with Cho Chang. She slouched down, listening to Seamus and Dean talking about something about the Whomping Willow. Their conversation ended up fading from her ears and Vulpecula ended up excusing herself to head to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The circular place was empty of people, nothing but squishy armchairs, tables, and a bulletin board where school notices, ads, lost posters, and other things could be posted. Vulpecula took off her Gryffindor robe and made herself cozy on the couch before the large fireplace that dominated one wall. She listened to the crackling flames and eyed the mantle which was adorned with a portrait of a lion, and in her deep thoughts, she still found it kinda strange that the fireplace was connected to Floo Network. It was extremely public except to anyone which didn’t seem safe in the slightest, except for in the dead of night. Vulpecula let her eyes wander among the walls that were decorated with scarlet tapestries that depict witches and wizards, but also various animals. She also eyed bookcases located in the room, filled with various novels and wondered if there had been any Muggle novels within its collection.

Suddenly Vulpecula heard a voice that was a chill to the bone; one of icy coldness. **_Come . . . come . . . come to me . . . . I smell blood . . ._**

The girl sat up, peering around the room. “Hello? Anyone there?” 

She strained her eyes to hear the voice again but there was no sound now except for the embers from the fireplace.

Thinking it was just her imagination, Vulpecula grabbed her robe and left for her dormitory without any worry. Angelina was there, already in her pajamas and bed, writing in her diary. She gazed up, smiling. 

“Hey, Vulpecula.” 

“Hello, Angie.” Vulpecula mustered up a smile and laid back on her bed, staring up at the canopy above her. She let her mind wander then, “Angelina?” 

“Hm?” 

“When I was sorted into Gryffindor, I knew that everyone had their . . . _opinions_ about it.” Vulpecula started and Angelina lowered her diary, eyeing her as she flipped around and propped her head up on her hand. “So from one friend to another, what was yours?” 

“Full honesty?” 

She nodded. “Full honestly.” 

Angelina closed her diary, setting it on her nightstand and shifted herself on her bed to face the platinum blonde. “I thought the Sorting Hat must’ve made a mistake because of your family, the Malfoys, all they’ve ever been in was Slytherin—like the Weasleys belonging to Gryffindor without a second thought.” She halts and licks her lips to moisten them. “But the very next day, anybody who paid attention could see that you were selfless and that’s something Malfoys lack—no offense.” She nervously chuckled. 

“It’s fine.” Vulpecula told her truthfully. 

Angelina nodded then softly added, “Being friends with Nyla made people open their eyes but I think what sold them on you actually being a part of Gryffindor was Fred and George.” 

The mention of the twins caused Vulpecula to sit up completely and scoot towards the edge of her bed, heeding her friend’s words in anticipation. 

“They spoke so fondly of you and everyone really admired them, so with them liking you—liking a Malfoy—that’s when we knew for certain that the Sorting Hat had made no error in judgement.” 

Vulpecula couldn’t hold back a smile and she whispered a thank you, and offered Angelina a good night’s rest before getting out her very own set of pajamas from her dresser and headed into the bathroom to change in peace. 

When she came back out Lavender Brown and Katie Bell were in their bunks, frolicking about some boy that Vulpecula paid no mind to. She wished them a good night as well, slipping under her covers and placing her wand directly underneath her pillow and slipped into a cozy slumber. 

October left a damp chill over the grounds and inside the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse of Hogwarts, was busy as a bee with the sudden colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who’d been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire. 

It’d been raining for days on end, the droplets the size of bullets and thundering against the castle windows. The lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s enormous pumpkins had swelled to the size of garden sheds. It didn’t stop Oliver Wood from making the entire Quidditch team do their training sessions though—which was the reason why Vulpecula saw Fred and George returning one late stormy afternoon on a Saturday to the Gryffindor Tower. drenched and splattered with mud. 

Aside from the rain and rustling wind, Vulpecula, Nyla, Fred, and George had been spying on the Slytherin team and seen for themselves the speed of the new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. The teams were no more than seven green blurs that shot through the air like rockets. 

The depressing atmosphere of the weather had put a damper on the days and even seemed to affect the mood of the students. Vulpecula had been in Potions with Nyla, focusing hard and she accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling which meant that Mr. Filch had to clean up despite having the flu. The girl was even waiting for Professor Snape to take points away from Gryffindor but he never did, he just dismissed her and didn’t say one word. 

She was in the Gryffindor Common Room, doing homework as rain still lashed at the windows, appearing to be inky black. The firelight glowerd over the countless squashy armchairs where others sat to read, talk, do homework, or in Fred and George’s case, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had gotten the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from their Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smoldering gently on the table where the Malfoy girl sat. 

Vulpecula glanced upwards, the salamander staring her down before it suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander’s mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove Vulpecula speechless. Fire dwelling lizard or not, she left bad for the salamander and she just knew that the poor little guy was terribly afraid. 

When Halloween arrived, the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid’s vast pumpkins been carved into jack o’lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were even rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment. Seven o’clock came and the Great Hall that was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles was packed. Vulpecula took one look inside and decided against it, telling Nyla to have a good time with Cho and left for her dormitory. 

On the way she came across the path with Peeves, the most notorious and troublesome poltergeist in Hogwarts. Unlike Nearly Headless Nick and the others, he had a physical form, though he was able to become invisible at will. Vulpecula knew him best, like the Weasley twins, and he was a seamless blend of humor and malice. He was wickedly slanted, orange eyes, and was dressed in loud, outlandish clothes which included a bell-covered hat and an orange bow tie. 

“Hi, Peeves.” She smiled. 

“Nibbles?” He wore a broad grin on his wide face, offering her a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus. 

“You know I don’t like peanuts.” She mused. “Also you know that I’m not supposed to be the blunt end of a prank.” 

Peeves placed the peanuts away. “Of course, of course, Ms. _Pecula_.” 

“Peevesy.” She shot back with a smirk. “Where you headin’?” 

“Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party.” 

“Well, I bid you a good time.” Vulpecula rounded about him, heading off but twirled around. “And if Myrtle’s there, tell her hello for me?” 

“As you wish,” he did a foolish bow and passed by the Great Hall, and then continued on down towards the dungeons. 

Vulpecula ran a hand back through her hair, giving a small yawn and kept on walking through the empty halls as she could still hear the music and babbling talk that came from the feast and echoed throughout the entrance hall. She began humming a nursery rhyme that her mother used to sing to her when she was younger and couldn’t sleep at night, running her left hand along the walls of the castle. 

Her humming then came to a stop when she heard: **_Blood . . . I smell blood . . ._**

It was the same voice, the same cold and murderous voice that she had heard in the Gryffindor Common Room. 

She stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all her might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway that she was in. 

**_Let me rip you . . . . Let me kill you . . ._ **

The voice was growing faint and Vulpecula was sure that it was moving away, and upwards. Inside of her was fear but there was also curiosity over what was speaking. She eyed the dark ceiling, wondering how the voice would be moving upward. Was it a phantom trapped in the stone? 

She began to follow it, straining her ears. Her footsteps pounding against the marble staircase, heartbeat beating inside her ears. 

**_Kill . . . Kill!_ **

Vulpecula hurtled to the second floor, her pounding steps replaced with wet splashes. She peered down at her feet, seeing the whole floor flooded with shallow water as if someone left a sink running for a long time. To try and not slip, she began a brisk walk and spotted a marching line of spiders exiting out of a window that had a small hole in it. 

“Vulpecula?” 

The girl spun around, seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione; the three of them staring at her. 

“You hear it, too?” Harry asked. “The voice?” 

She nodded. “Yeah. And you?”

Hermione looked over to Ron who was focusing on something else. “We didn’t hear anything. We just followed Harry up here.” 

“What’s that?” Ron said, a slight quiver in his voice. 

On the floor there was a reflective image of something written on the wall and the four looked up, seeing the foot high words that were shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. 

“‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware’.” Hermione read aloud, then gulped. “It’s written in blood.”

“Oh, no.” Harry then mumbled, his eyes fixed on a dark shadow off to the side of the message. 

Vulpecula took a step before him. Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, was hanging by her trail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. 

A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the fast had ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people. And the very next, students crashing into the passage from both ends. 

The chatter, the bustle, had died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging. Vulpecula and Harry stood alone at the sight while Ron and Hermione were off to the side as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight. 

Draco had been up front, his eyes alive and squinting. “‘Enemies of the Heir, beware’.” He recited the message that was written then glanced over at Hermione and to Nyla that found her way up to the front with Fred, George, Percy, and Colin. “You’ll be next, Mudbloods.” 

“What’s going on, here?” Filch’s voice rang out as he shouldered his way through the Gryffindor crowd, Fred and George blocking his way. “Go on, make way, make way.” 

He parted the twins away and they just sadly peered to Vulpecula who tried to step in front of Mrs. Norris’s body, to obscure Filch’s view. The poor caretaker had been through enough the past days, this was the last thing he needed. 

“Potter,” his eyes landed on Harry then flickered to Vulpecula. “Malfoy, what are you . . .” 

His words faded away once he saw what she was trying to hide even though she wasn’t tall enough. 

“Mrs. Norris?” He was horrified. “You’ve . . . murdered my cat. The both of you.” 

Harry shook his head. “No, no.” 

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill the both of you. I’ll kill you both!” 

“Argus!” 

Dumbledore arrived on the scene, followed by Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout, and even Lockhart. He darted his eyes between the message, the cat, Vulpecula, Harry, and Filch. 

“Everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately.” The students began to leave and when Harry and Vulpecula tried to leave with Hermione and Ron, they were stopped by Dumbledore.

Nyla stood nearby, not wanting to leave her friend but the Headboy of Ravenclaw called for her to follow and reluctantly, she did. 

Lockhart stepped up, inspecting Mrs. Norris as Filch stood, seemingly wanting to cry and Vulpecula felt terrible. 

“She’s not dead, Argus.” Dumbledore announced to ease his mind, and maybe even Vulpecula as well. “She has been Petrified.” 

“I thought so!” Lockhart commented. “So unlucky I wasn’t there. I know exactly the countercurse that could’ve spared her.” 

“Which is what?” Vulpecula eyed him, a part of her fuming. She could just _tell_ that he was a liar, a fake and with him pretending to be the best was getting on her nerves. 

He paused for a moment. “Well if I tell you, then we won’t have a class lesson for tomorrow now, wouldn’t we?” He flashed that smile of his and Vulpecula wanted to cast Mimblewimble on him right then and there. 

Dumbledore continued to speak as he began examining Mrs. Norris. “But how she’s been Petrified I cannot say.” 

“Ask them.” Filch shrieked, motioning to Vulpecula and Harry. “They done it. You’ve seen what they wrote on the wall.” 

Harry eyed Dumbledore, uncomfortable. “It’s not true, sir. I swear. Vulpecula and I—we _never_ touched Mrs. Norris.” 

“Rubbish.” Filch snapped, snarling. 

Professor Snape, who was half in shadow and wearing a most peculiar expression, spoke. “If I might, Headmaster? Perhaps Ms. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, and his friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

Ron and Harry exchanged dumbfounded expressions, not understanding why he was taking their sides during this scenario but Vulpecula did. She knew why, and it was because Snape was a good family friend. 

_“However,”_ he then intercepted and Vulpecula eyed him. “The circumstances are suspicious. I, for one, don’t recall seeing Potter nor Ms. Malfoy at the feast.” 

“We attended Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party. All ghosts were there to celebrate his death.” Hermione stated in her tiny voice, staring up at Snape. 

He thought it over then turned to Vulpecula. “And you, Ms. Malfoy?” 

“Not a big fan of gatherings, especially ones on Halloween.” She remarked, allowing her words to linger in the air and Snape took a step back. “I was on my way back to the Gryffindor Common Room when I noticed the flooded corridor, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were tagging along with me after a conversation I had with Peeves.” 

Snape then peered to Dumbledore, awaiting his conclusion. “Innocent until proven guilty, Severus.” 

Filch then spoke again. “My cat has been Petrified. I want to see some punishment!”

“We will be able to cure her, Argus. As I understand it, Madame Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrake. When matured, a potion will be made which will revive Mrs. Norris. And in the meantime, I strongly recommend caution to all.” 

The kids were able to leave and they went quickly as they could without running. They headed up the changing stairs, taking them to where they needed to go. 

Hermione was the first to break the quiet as she walked with Vulpecula. “It’s quite strange, isn’t it?” 

“Strange?” Harry cooed. 

She stopped and stared behind her at him. “You and Vulpecula heard a voice, a voice that you two can only hear, then Mrs. Norris turns up Petrified. It’s just . . . strange.” 

“Do you think I should’ve told them?” Harry asked her. “Dumbledore and the others, I mean?” 

“Are you mad?” Ron said without hesitation. “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn’t a good sign, even in the Wizarding world.” 

Vulpecula frowned. “Ron’s right. That’s why I didn’t say anything, _besides_ , I’m a Malfoy who got sorted into Gryffindor. I already had enough spoken about me as it is; I don’t need the whole school to think that I can hear voices and am gonna turn into a Peter Pettingrew.” 

Realizing what she said, Vulpecula froze and looked at Harry. She silently apologized for even mentioning the name and continued her ascend up the flight of stairs without the group as a clock chimed from somewhere, marking it as midnight.   
  



	3. Attacks of the Serpent-tongues

The next few days had been quite somber with the whole school talking about nothing else except for the attack on Mrs. Norris. Part of the reason for it was because Filch kept it fresh in everyone’s minds by pacing back and forth at the spot where it transpired, as though he believed the attacker might return to the sight of the crime. Vulpecula had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Slower’s All Purpose Magical Mess Remover on her way to class, but it was fruitless; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. 

In Transfiguration Class, Nyla sat near the front with Hermione as they were learning to turn animals into water goblets. Ron was the first to try it out but with his broken wand, the charm wasn’t able to completely do its transformation. The rat shifted into a goblet, but it contained its tail and fur which made the class chuckle. Once the laughter died down, Hermione raised her hand. 

“Professor, I was wondering if you could tell us about the Chamber of Secrets.” She questioned in a clear voice. 

Nyla sat up in her wooden chair, peering over her shoulder to see Draco curiously taking a gander over at his sister who was only a desk away from his and sitting with Neville. Vulpecula had her wand out at the ready, Fred’s fire dwelling salamander before her on the table’s surface and she was about to transform him but froze upon hearing what Hermione had said. 

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, eyeing all the students who were very interested. “Very well. Well, you all know of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Now, three of the founders coexisted quite harmoniously. One did not.”

Ron then leaned over to Harry, whispering quite loudly. “Three guesses who.”

McGonagall eyed him as she began walking through the rows of desks, the whole class turning all around to pay attention to her every word. “Salazar Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. In other words, pure-bloods.” 

Vulpecula shifted her eyes to see Draco staring at her in a sad silence and he turned away quickly. Her eyes then landed up on Nyla and Hermione, the two girls boring their brown eyes onto hers and holding small optimistic smiles. 

“Unable to sway the others, he decided to leave the school. According to legend, Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in this castle known as the Chamber of Secrets. Though, shortly before departing, he sealed it until that time when his own true Heir returned to the school. The Heir alone would be able to open the Chamber and unleash the horror within, and by so doing, purge the school of all those who, in Slytherin's view, were unworthy to study magic.” 

“Muggle-borns.” Nyla stated as Professor McGonagall strolled back up and stood in front of the class once again. 

“Naturally, the school has been searched many times. No such chamber has been found.” 

“Professor?” Hermione spoke. “What exactly does legend tell us lies within the Chamber?”

“The Chamber is said to be home to something that only the Heir of Slytherin can control. It is said to be the home . . . of a monster.”

There was silence as she finished telling the story, but it wasn’t the usual, sleepy silence. There was unease in the air as everyone exchanged nervous looks. But easily within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual vigor. 

It was the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor against Slytherin. It was a muggy Saturday with a hint of sunshine in the air as the stadium roared to life, watching the game. Nyla was next to Vulpecula, wearing her Ravenclaw scarf amongst the Gryffindors, cheering as Angelia had the Quaffle about to score but it got stolen from her and the Slytherins scored instead. 

Harry flew up high, keeping his eye out for the Snitch until Draco flew up next to him. Paying attention to the blond he didn’t notice the heavy black Bludger that came pelting toward him. He avoided it narrowingly, rounding itself around and George streaked past Harry with his club in hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. 

Vulpecula watched as George gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrain Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again. The boy dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Draco but once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry’s head. 

Wood flew up in front of the boy, staring at him and said something. Harry then bellowed out a yell as the Bludger came back full swing, breaking through the front part of Wood’s broom and left him spinning uncontrollably out of the air. 

Vulpecula had her eyes glued on Harry as the Bludger began chasing him down at the other end of the field where Fred was stationed. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all of his might; the Bludger was knocked off course. Then, as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed. 

The Malfoy girl was so focused and zoned in on what was happening with Harry that she didn’t even know Slytherin scored once again until Lee Jordan, who was commentating, said, “Another goal for Slytherin! They lead Gryffindor ninety to thirty!” 

The Slytherins’ superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. 

“It’s been tampered with . . .”

“What?” Nyla shouted, leaning in closer towards Vulpecula to try and hear her over the crowd. 

“The Bludger,” she stated louder. “It’s been tampered.” 

Higher and higher Harry went, he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. He even began a kind of rollercoaster ride around the edges of the stadium, the Bludger blowing holes through the stadium towers which broke wooden frames and the banisters. He managed to sneak away for a moment, seeing the Golden Snitch nearby Draco who was too busy laughing at him to notice it. 

The Bludger returned, Harry ducking as it shot at Draco’s head but he avoided it just as Harry took off for the Snitch. Draco watched as he went and raced after, hitting him and flew forwards and reached out to grab the Snitch but failed as it snuck down in the side portion of the pitch. The two boys vanished down in the crevice and Vulpecula kept her eyes peeled as everyone seemed more interested in the Quaffle passes. There were loud booms of the Bludger splitting wood beams that held the entire structure together and certainly hoped for the best. 

Suddenly Harry flew out but Draco tumbled, crashing landing onto the grassy pitch and rolling about until his body came to a graveling stop. The end of his Nimbus Two Thousand and One was splintered, broken off and Vulpecula wondered if it had been from the Bludger or if his arrogance got the better of him and wasn’t paying attention to where he flew. Regardless, Vulpecula leaned over and peered down at her little brother, seeing him hurt and peered up to the Slytherin stand, seeing Professor appearing more concerned than what her and Draco’s own father did. He looked annoyed, disappointed in his son’s wreckage and Vulpecula felt herself smoldering from within. 

She began her descent down but not before she saw Harry directly behind the Snitch, his arm reaching out for it until the Bludger came and _WHAM!_ It hit him fast in the arm, him spinning around on his broom. 

Nyla followed after, scurrying about. 

“Harry Potter has caught the Snitch!” Lee Jordan shouted. “Gryffindor wins!” 

Making way out onto the pitch, the girls see Harry laying down in the sand mound at the base of the goalposts with the Snitch in hand. The Bludger flew down to try and hit Harry but he rolled off to the side as it hit the ground with a massive thud and lifted for another attack. Harry moved back to where he’d been previously, the Bludger missing him by a few inches and it raised again, this time landing the open space between his legs. 

Wand out and in her grip, Vulpecula flicked out her arm as the Bludger raised high and began its drop down. _“Finite Incantatem!”_ She yelled and the thing ceased all movement before exploding into white sparks that rained down gingerly upon Harry. 

He uttered a “thank you” to her before she ran off, checking on Draco and helped him upon his feet as Lockhart, Nyla, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid all surrounded Harry. Vulpecula helped her brother up as Crabbe and Goyle joined them on the field with the Slytherin team and Professor Snape. She and Snape lead him towards the school, to get looked after by Madam Pomfrey. 

Nyla watched as her friend left but instantly took notice of Lockhart kneeling next to Harry and placing his arm into his grasp, inspecting it. “Not to worry, Harry. I will fix that arm of yours straight away.” 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Not you.” 

“Poor boy,” Lockhart began loudly as Wood, Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina, and Katie pressed around them, “doesn’t know what he’s saying.” 

“Mr. Lockhart,” Nyla began in a polite voice. “Perhaps Harry should go to the hospital wing.” 

“I’m completely capable,” said Lockhart, who inches up Harry’s sleeve. “Now this, won’t hurt a bit.” 

“But Mr. Lockhart—” Nyla’s words were toned out as he began twirling his wand and directed it at Harry’s arm. 

_“Brackium Emendo!”_ A vivid blue light appeared and it vanished, revealing Harry’s arm that now looked like a thick, flesh covered rubber glove. 

Colin Creevey had come down with his camera, clicking away madly. Everyone looked on in disgust, the arm deflated and non moving as Lockhart began to play with it by bending it every which way. 

“Ah,” he nodded, shrugging it off. “Yes, well, that can sometimes happen but the point is . . . uh, you can no longer feel any pain, and very clearly, the bones are not broken.” 

“Broken?” Hagrid glared at the Professor. “There’s no bones left.” 

Lockhart bent back Harry’s wrist, touching his forearm with it then released, his hand snapping backwards like flimsy licorice. “Much more flexible, though.” 

Nyla shook her head, shooing Lockhart away and helped Harry up and onto his feet. “Come on, Harry. Madam Pomfrey will be able to tidy you up. _Properly_.” She announced the last word with clarity, hoping that Lockhart understood her disapproval in him for not listening to Harry, nor her. 

In the wing, Harry sat on a cot on the other side of the room and four cots away from Draco Malfoy where he laid, moaning and groaning as he held his stomach, accompanied by Vulpecula, Flint, Crabbe, Goyle, and another Slytherin team member that Nyla didn’t recognize. 

Madam Pomfrey scurried in, not pleased at all and with Draco’s unnecessary moaning, she gazed over to him. “Mr. Malfoy, stop making such a fuss. You can go.” 

She then shooed away the crowd that gathered around Harry and Vulpecula excused herself to check on the boy as well, standing in front of George and Fred, and next to Nyla and Neville. They filled her in on what Mr. Lockhart did. 

“Should have been brought straight to me. I can mend bones in a heartbeat, but growing them back . . .” Her voice drifted off as she prepared her bottle of Skele-Gro. 

Hermione then asked, “You will be able to, won't you?”

“I'll be able to, certainly. But it'll be painful.” She commented, pouring out a beakferful and handing it to Harry. “You're in for a rough night, Potter. Regrowing bones is a nasty business.” 

Harry brought the rim up to his lips, taking a drink then leaned forwards, spitting it out like a fountain. Vulpecula was caught in the crossfire but so was Fred, the two of them stumbling back out of the way as Harry gagged.

“What do you expect? Pumpkin juice?” Madam Pomfrey mused and Harry took another drink, this time swallowing it down and she took the beaker, retreating. 

Vulpecula then peered over to where he brother was laying but he had gone, leaving the hospital wing and she turned back to focus on Harry as Dean, Angelia, Katie, Seamus, Alicia, and a few others handed Harry cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice before they left. Wood commented on Harry’s flying, Fred and George as well before they then left. Ron and Hermione wished him well and went off, leaving Vulpecula and Nyla by themselves with the boy but eventually went after to give him time to regrow the thirty-three bones that Lockhart had removed. 

The day progressed, turning to night and everyone was in their dorms except for Vulpecula. She sat at the desk writing, with her ink and quill, a letter to her cousin Tonks. She was explaining how her classes were going, about Fred’s salamander and how he and George fed it a firework which caused it to swarm all around the Common Room, and how Filch’s cat somehow got petrified by something that even Dumbledore couldn’t explain. She even began mentioning how Colin Creevey was following Harry around because he was such a fan of him, taking pictures at every chance he was given. 

**_Kill . . . Kill . . . Time to kill_ **

The voice made her wrist freeze in place, her head turning to try and locate the movement of it. 

It sounded like whatever was speaking was slithering out in the hall and below her feet. 

**_Kill . . . Kill . . ._ **

Vulpecula stood, leaving out of the Common Room and peaked out from behind the Fat Lady’s door, careful not to awaken her, and down the staircases which began changing to take her where she was wanting to go. She continued, hurrying down the stairs as she heard the noise getting louder and louder. 

She reached a platform, a break between the stairs, the voice getting further away from her even though she was full in a sprint down the steps which made her braid swish back and forth behind her back with every bounce. Vulpecula halted and peered around at the sleeping portraits, no longer hearing the being. It was now quiet and whatever the thing was, it must’ve gone. 

Suddenly, she felt as if she weren’t alone and slowly took her wand from out of her pajama pant pocket. Vulpecula whipped around and pointed the end of her wand at a boy’s neck, but not just any boy, it was Fred Weasley and he was accompanied by George. 

“Fancy meetin’ you, Lula.” Fred nodded. 

Vulpecula was dumbfounded, loudly whispering. “The heck you two doing?” 

“Could ask you the same,” George uttered back, glancing around at the sleeping portraits. 

The girl darted her attention back and forth between the boys and dropped her arm gradually, placing her wand back into her pocket. “How’d you even know I left the Common Room?” 

Fred shrugged, a hint of a smirk upon his lips. “We got our ways.” 

Vulpecula was about to speak when she heard what sounded like a lady hurriedly speaking in a hushed tone. She spun on her heel, listening intently and took off downwards. The boys chased after. 

Near the bottom of the stairs, the three came across the sight of Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, who was wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap, picking up what appeared to be a statue laying on the ground. They shuffled along the floor, disappearing around the corner and the three took a mad dash after. The trio made sure that they kept a correct amount of distance to remain unseen, stopping around corners and in alcoves of the hallways. 

They stopped outside of the hospital wing, Vulpecula peeking around as Fred and George hunkered from above as they heard urgent voices. Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress, did a sharp intake of breath. 

“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the state that was placed on a bed. 

“Another attack,” said Dumbledore. “Minerva found him on the stairs.” 

Vulpecula turned her head upwards to see the twins already staring down at her, the three of them flabbergasted. They continued to eavesdrop. 

“We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter.” Professor McGonagall commented.

Vulpecula’s stomach lurched. Slowly and carefully, she snuck out and across the hall to the doorway as George uttered for her to be careful. She waited then popped her head around so she could get a look at the statue. A ray of moonlight laid across its face, revealing the person to be Colin Creevey; his eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera. 

“Perhaps he managed to take a picture of his attacker.” Professor McGonagall said with hope and eagerness. 

Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin’s rigid grip. He opened the camera and a hiss came with sparks and the acrid smell of burnt plastic. 

“What does this mean, Albus?” Professor McGonagall asked urgently. 

“It means,” Dumbledore began and Vulpecula leaned in more, eyes locked on the Headmaster, “that our students are in great danger.” 

“What should I tell the staff?” 

“The truth.” He looked at her. “Tell them Hogwarts is no longer safe. It is, as we feared, Minerva. The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again.” 

The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The First Years were now moving around the castle in tight knit groups, believing they would get attacked if they ventured forth alone. 

Ginny Weasley, who Vulpecula had learned, had next to Colin in Charms and was distraught. Fred and George tried to cheer her up by taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to their mother and tell her Ginny was having nightmares. 

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school grounds. Neville Longbottom bought a large, cruel smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked. 

Vulpecula went and spoke with Nyla, telling her everything that she overheard and the girl was amazed. She listened with her mouth wide open. 

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened _before_?” 

Vulpecula nodded. 

Nyla then pondered. “Do you think your father must’ve opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he’s told Draco how to do it?” 

The girl instantly shook her head. “There’s no way. I know my father has his beliefs about Muggle-borns and half bloods but he’d never be capable of something like that.” 

Her friend listened, growing quiet. Yet inside of Vulpecula’s mind, she couldn’t help but now think of that very same thing: could it _actually_ be her baby brother that was doing this under her father’s command?

Three weeks into December, Vulpecula, Nyla, Fred, and George were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Cho Chang and Katie Bell beckoned them over, looking excited. 

“They’re starting a Dueling Club. Tonight’s the first meeting.” Katie cooed. “The dueling lessons might come in handy one of these days . . .”

“What, you reckon Slytherin’s monster can duel?” George teased. 

“Could be useful,” Nyla said, reading the sign with interest before they went into dinner. 

At eight o’clock, Vulpecula, Fred, and George hurried to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a blue stage with golden phases of the moon had appeared along one wall, lit by the thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited. 

They stood in place with their Gryffindor housemates and across the way, Vulpecula caught sight of Nyla standing with Cho and she gave a polite wave from afar. Vulpecula gave her one back, smiling but then groaned as she saw Gilderoy Lockhart walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum. 

He waved an arm for silence and called, “Gather round! Gather round! Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent.” Lockhart turned about, starting his introduction as he strolled towards the middle of the stage. “In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this Dueling Club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works.” 

_No, not worth my time._ Vulpecula mentally thought as she rolled her eyes at him taking off his cape and threw it into the section next to her. Angelina clasped his cape, holding it as if it were precious as life itself while Katie and Alicia congratulated her. 

“Let me introduce my assistant. Professor Snape.” Lockhart flashed a smile, motioning at the far end of the stage and everyone turned in an instant. 

He stepped up onto the platform, arms folded in front of his chest and Vulpecula received the biggest grin on her face. If they’re going to demonstrate spells to use for defense, Snape was going to clean the floor with Gilderoy Lockhart and that was something the girl had been dying to see. 

“He has sportingly agreed to help with a short demonstration. I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You’ll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him. Never fear.”

Lockhart and Snape faced each other and then raised their wands up to their faces before removing them away and bowing. They then spun on their heels, taking five paces away from one another then twirled around again and readied their wands as if they were swords. 

“One.” Lockhart began counting. “Two. Three.” 

_“Expelliarmus!”_ Snape shouted, not wasting time and swung his wand. A dazzling flash of scarlet light shot for Lockhart and he was blasted off his feet; he flew backward near the ledge of the stage, hitting his back hard which knocked the air from his lungs. 

Slytherin cheered and there were a few snickers here and there from boys, but a vast majority of girls were dancing on tiptoes but not Nyla or Vulpecula. They held in their snickers as Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. 

“An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape . . . but if you don’t mind me saying, it was obvious what you were about to do.” He shrugged it off, grinning as he strolled back up to Professor Snape. “If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy.”

Snape looked unamused. “Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, professor.”

Vulpecula let out a low whistle, annoying this type of conflict and Fred was all about it too. He kept on muttering things towards George and to Vulpecula as well. 

“An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Let’s have a volunteer pair.” Lockhart then began searching the sea of students. His eyes eventually find Ron and Harry. “Potter, Weasley, how about you?”

Harry moved and when Ron tried, Snape spoke. “Weasley’s wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house?” He then shrugged. “Malfoy, perhaps?”

“Oh, no.” Vulpecula placed her face into her palms as her little brother got up on stage from behind Professor Snape and Harry from behind Lockhart. 

The boys met in the middle, staring each other down intently as Lockhart called, “Wands at the ready!” 

Harry and Draco swung their wands up to their faces like how Snape and Lockhart did, not taking their eyes off each other. “Scared, Potter?” Draco flicked his eyebrows up at him. 

“You wish.” Harry sneered back. They threw their arms away and turned, taking five paces and faced the other down, getting into their stances. 

“On the count of three,” Lockhart stated, “cast your charms to disarm your opponent. _Only_ to disarm. We don't want any accidents here.”

Vulpecula eyed Draco, knowing that he wasn’t going to wait the entire three seconds. Her brother was quick to draw when it came to dueling; hit them first before they could hit you, a common fighting technique that their father told them time and time again. 

“One. Two.” 

And as expected, Draco already started. _“Everte Statum!”_ An orange light hit Harry, causing him to flip back through the air numerous times before landing with a hard thud which caused Crabbe and Goyle to chuckle loudly. 

Harry got up quick, pointing his wand straight at Draco and shouted, _“Rictusempra!”_

A jet of silver light hit Draco in the stomach and he twirled backwards into the air, a few chuckles here and there coming out from him before he landed on his bum and bounced to a landing. He gazed up at Snape who grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him onto his feet before focusing back on Harry with anger. 

“I said disarm only!” Lockhart called out. 

Draco raised his wand and bellowed, _“Serpensortia!”_

The end of his wand exploded. Everyone watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between Draco and Harry, and raised itself, ready to strike. The crowd backed swiftly away, gasping as it slithered towards Harry. 

“Don’t move, Potter,” said Snape, moving around Draco. “I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Allow me, Professor Snape!” Lockhart brandished his wand, stepping in front of Harry and pointed at the snake. _“Alarte Ascendare!”_

Instead of vanishing, the snake flew ten feet up and into the air and fell back to the stage floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward a Hufflepuff that stood next to Vulpecula named Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike. Just then, Harry told the snake to “Leave Justin alone” and Vulpecula peered up at Harry, not believing that he knew how to speak Parseltongue. However, the snake paid him no mind and hissed at Justin, readying his fangs once again. 

This time Vulpecula moved, stepping in front of Justin and the snake focused on her and hissed. “Listen to me,” she explained to the snake, “you don’t want to do this. Leave him, and everyone else alone.” Miraculously, the snake listened to her and slumped to the floor, docile. 

_“Vipera Evanesca.”_ Snape waved his wand and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. 

“What are the both of you playing at?” Justin shouted, eyeing Harry and Vulpecula with wide eyes. 

Just then, it dawned on Vulpecula what just happened. The whole school now knew that the Chamber of Secrets was opened and the monster of Slytherin was attacking Muggle-borns, and her and Harry were both spotted at the first scene of the crime. With them now speaking Parseltongue, a very uncommon trait that’s normally hereditary—a talent that Salazar Slytherin had himself—in front of everyone, it didn’t look good. Especially for Vulpecula since she was a Malfoy. 

That night, Vulpecula laid awake for hours in the Gryffindor Common Room all by herself on the couch and listened to the fire crackling as she stared up at the ceiling. Everyone had been silent around her, even Nyla, the only ones that still spoke to her was Fred and George. Harry even spoke with her about how she understood and new Parseltongue after Hermione and Ron spoke with him about it being a rare trait. She got up, sitting by the window near her study table and watched as it began to snow delicately then turn into a blizzard. Sooner or later, Vulpecula didn’t know which but she eventually drifted to sleep by lounging back and resting her eyes. 

In the early morning the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled from the heavy snow but nonetheless, Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on her Mandrakes as it was important for them to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Morris and Colin Creevey. 

Vulpecula wandered the dim halls of the castle due to the thick, swirling grey snow at every window. Shivering, the Malfoy girl walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. Professor McGonagall was shouting at someone who turned his friend into a badger, and resisting the urge to take a gander, Vulpecula walked on as she went for the library. 

A group of Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were sitting at the back of the library, not working but rather whispering in hushed tones. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Vulpecula could see their heads close together and in an absorbing conversation. She listened in, her ears meeting a familiar name and hid in the Invisibility section. 

“I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory.” A stout boy was speaking. “I mean, if Potter and girl Malfoy marked him down as their next victim, it’s best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Considering he _is_ a Muggle-born.” 

“How are you even sure it is Harry, or even Vulpecula, Ernie?” A girl with black pigtails asked, her eyes boring into his. 

“Clementine,” said the stout boy solemnly, “they’re both Parselmouths. Everyone knows that’s the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue.” 

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and the girl interjected quickly. “It still doesn’t mean anything. Vulpecula and Harry are both in Gryffindor.” 

Ernie went on. “Remember what was written on the wall? ‘Enemies of the Heir, beware.’ Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch’s cat’s attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter and taking pictures of him. Next thing we know—Creevey’s been attacked.” 

“You’re missing out on the other side of your logic,” Clementine defended. “None of it deals with Vulpecula.” 

“She’s a Malfoy, of course she’s rotten to the core.” 

The girl leaned in even more on the table with her elbows. “I don’t believe it. They’re nice people. And Harry, he’s the one who made You-Know-Who disappear.” 

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Vulpecula did the same. 

“No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted to smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that.” He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, “That’s probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn’t want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter’s been hiding?” 

Another girl of Hufflepuff, who was sitting next to Ernie, nudged him. “And your theory on Malfoy?” 

He shrugged simply. “Her family hates anyone who isn’t pure-blood. And my mother told me that her father was accused of being a Death Eater but he was acting under the Imperius Curse which freed him from Azkaban. Of course that’d be his excuse though—the man’s guilty, clear as day, he only got scot-free because of being rich.” 

Vulpecula couldn’t take anymore. Her father, no matter how estranged he was towards her and how indifferent their views may have been, she knew that he’d never side with Voldemort. She’d defend her father till her dying breath and there was no mistaking that. 

The girl stormed off and out of the library without getting what she needed in the first place, earning a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spell book. 

Vulpecula blundered up the corridor and stairs, turned along another corridor which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. She was halfway down the passage when she trapped headlong over something lying on the floor. 

She turned to squint at what she’d fallen over and felt her eyes widen with fear. 

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a lock of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn’t all. Next to him was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock just like Justin’s. 

Vulpecula got to her feet, her breathing shallow and fast. She looked wildly up and down the desert corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from classes on either side. 

As she stood there, in panic, a door right next to her opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out. 

“Pecula!” Peeves cackled. “What are you up to? Why is a Malfoy lurking—”

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. 

“Peevey . . .” Vulpecula started, raising her hands in a motion for him to pause and collect himself.

He flipped the right right up, filled his lungs and, before she could stop him, screamed, “ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAACK!” 

Door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Vulpecula found herself pinned against the wall as teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had a black and white striped hair, and one being Nyla Sparks herself. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. Nyla stayed with, her studying the scene. 

Peeves bobbed behind Vulpecula, grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; the man always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves whispered to the girl: “I heard what the school’s been saying about you and Potter. Not good things, I’m afraid. Not goooood things. And this, this won’t make it betteeer.” 

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Nyla with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. Nyla did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Vulpecula and Professor McGonagall alone together. 

“I swear I didn’t do it.” Vulpecula stated calmly. 

The Professor didn’t say a word, she just nodded and returned back to her own class. Vulpecula was left alone once again and she held her arms tight to her chest, basking in her own warmth. 


	4. Follow the Spiders

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned the nervousness into real panic. Strangely enough, it was Nearly Headless Nick’s fate that seemed to worry people the most. They kept on asking each other: what could possibly do that to a ghost? What terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas. 

Vulpecula was thankful for that at the least, she was getting tired of people skirting around her in the corridors, as though she would draw her wand and place a curse on them. 

“Hey, look everyone. It’s the Heir of Slytherin.” Fred and George shouted as the two of them marched ahead of her down the corridors. “Be careful! She’s a seriously evil wizard.”

Percy was deeply disapproving of the behavior. 

“It’s  _ not _ a laughing matter,” he said coldly. 

“Oh, Percy, get out of the way,” replied Fred. “Lula’s in a hurry.” 

“Yeah, she’s off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with her fanged servant,” George added, chortling. 

Vulpecula didn’t mind; it made her feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of her being Slytherin’s heir was quite ludicrous. 

When the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. The girl found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that she, Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys had the run of the Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private. 

When Christmas morning dawned, it was cold and white. Vulpecula had woken up to a random gift at the edge of her four poster bed and opened it gently, finding a large plum cake on the inside along with a note from Mrs. Weasley. It read:  _ Fred and George told me lots about you, and I figured you’d need a cake for a cheer up. If you ever need anything, don’t be shy to let me know. Molly. _ A present, a thoughtful gift from a woman she’s never even met and it touched Vulpecula’s heart more than anything. 

She had then discovered another gift in a nice box wrapped in velvet and the girl got up from her bed, placing her bare feet on the floorboards and began her advance. There was no denying that it came from her parents. The black wrapped bow was evenly placed, snug around the sides of the package and without wrinkles. Vulpecula pulled on the one end, untangling the ribbon and opened the box to be met with a dark green sweater that she had seen once before in a shop that her and her mother had gone in. It was pricey, made in a lavious fabric that she didn’t care for but the girl had placed it over her head and quickly wrote a letter to thank her parents. 

Vulpecula then left the Gryffindor Tower and headed straight for the Christmas dinner that was being held in the Great Hall—which looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry. Dumbledore led the students in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. She sat with the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry, just in time to see Fred bewitching Percy’s prefect badge to read “Pinhead”. They began snickering and Percy kept asking them all why. Across the table, as Ron reached for his third helping of Christmas pudding, Vulpecula caught sight of Draco and how he was making loud, snide remarks about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. 

George then nudged her and she glanced at him. “You get the cake that mum sent you?” He asked. 

She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and nodded. “Yeah. I did. Did Errol fly it to my room?” 

“An attempt was made, but he collapsed on the delivery.” Fred spoke after swallowing down his spoonful of pudding. “George and I tried to deliver it ourselves but a wailing klaxon went off and before we knew it, the staircase turned into a stone slide.” 

“We tried using charms and spells, but we finally gave up on our tenth try.” George then added. 

Fred nodded. “We gave it to Hermione to give to you.” 

Hermione then stood, dusting off her robes and skirt from any unseen crumbs that dropped on her during eating. “Surely, you two must’ve known about our charmed stairs to the girls dormitory.” 

“Thought it was just a scare to keep the boys away,” Fred chuckled. “Surprised no more tried it, the most fun I’ve had.” 

The day continued; Harry, Ron, and Hermione ushered out of the hall to do something while the Weasleys and Vulpecula were sipping on tea and chatting about random things that popped in their heads. Ginny was speaking about her favorite classes and how she was checking up on Colin Creevey in the hospital wing. Percy finally realized that his blade had been charmed and fixed it before giving Fred a stern talk. The place was almost bare, not many were left in the area—the Slytherin table was empty besides Crabbe and Goyle who shovelled down fourth helpings of trifle. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry and Ron lurking in the deserted entrance of the Great Hall and hid once the two Slytherin students got up to leave. 

Telling a small white lie to the Weasleys, Vulpecula excused herself to see what exactly Harry and Ron were planning. 

Out in the hall, the girl heard grunts and groans, following the noise. She crept up on the boys stuffing an unconscious Crabbe and Goyle in the closet across the hall and once they were safely stowed among the buckets and mops, Harry and Ron yanked out pieces of their hairs. They also stole their shoes. 

They turn, seeing Vulpecula standing there and she darts her eyes back and forth. “Polyjuice?” 

Ron slowly nodded, gulping while Harry was just stunned. 

Vulpecula nodded back, grinning. “Have fun.” 

And like that, there were no words uttered as she turned and left. 

It had been several weeks and Hermione remained in the hospital wing due to the Polyjuice Potion turning her into Millicent Bulstrode’s cat, as Harry had informed Vulpecula. Students had returned back from their Christmas holidays, spreading a flurry of rumors that she had disappeared and been attacked. So many tried to capture a glimpse of her but couldn’t due to Madam Pomfrey placing curtains around her bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face and cat ears. 

Another thing that Harry told her was that he and Ron found an abandoned black book that had never been written in, in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. It was a journal and one that said it’d belonged to a student named Tom Marvolo Riddle, but the thing about it was that it was blank; no writings on the inside. It was thrown at Myrtle, Ron explained, and that the bathroom had all the sinks running and overflowing onto the floor which is what made them investigate the girl’s laboratory in the first place. Vulpecula had to wrap her head around what the two were saying; if the journal belonged to a boy, why was he in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and had thrown the book at her? Why had he flooded the room? 

It soon became February before anyone knew it and Hermione was out of recovery, getting back into her classes and eye-goggling Lockhart, and when it became Valentine’s Day she even sent him a card. The man was wearing lurid pink robes to match the large pink flowers on the walls with heart shaped confetti falling from the pale blue ceiling of the Great Hall during breakfast. Vulpecula chewed on her piece of bacon as the man waved for silence, teachers on either side of him looking like stone figures. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Lockhart shouted. “And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I haven taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all, and it doesn’t end here!” 

He clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen of surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any though, Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps. 

“My friendly, card carrying cupids!” The man beamed. “They’ll be roving around the school today delievering your valentines! And to enter the spirit of the occasion, why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly dog.” 

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands while Sanpe looked as if the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force fed poison. 

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of teachers. Vulpecula was growing irritated until one of them was for her. Shocked and mostly confused, she eyed the larly grim looking dwarf as he handed her a card. Nyla, who sat next to the girl turned her head away from their teacher, trying to take a gander at the writing. It read:

_ Sizzle with crackles and pops, _

_ A dazzling display with colors and smiles _

_ You’re mesmerizing as a night sky _

_ A sky filled with millions of sparks _

_ And I’ll be up there, watching from above _

_ To see you always staring at me  _

Not rhyming poetry but nonetheless, it felt more personal than like a casual flirt or fling of a sort. Vulpecula gave a strange look to Nyla then placed the card in between her book and went back to listening to the teacher. 

Not much had happened in the month of March; it had been months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everyone seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. It was now April, and time for the Second Years to choose their subjects for the Third Year and it was a matter that Hermione took seriously. 

Vulpecula sipped on her pumpkin juice, listening in as Ron gloomily spoke, “I wish we could give up old subjects, or I’d’ve ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts.” 

“But that’s very important!” Hermione retorted, shocked. 

“Not the way Lockhart teaches it,” Ron defended. “I haven’t learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose.” 

Neville had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subjects lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than Study of Ancient Runes. Dean, who like Harry had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody’s advice but signed up for everything. 

Percy eyed Harry and eagerly shared his experience. 

“Depends on where you want to go, Harry. It’s never too early to think about the future, so I’d recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have have thorough understanding of the mon-magical community, particularly if they’re thinking of working in close contact with them—look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry.” 

Harry felt he was really good at Quidditch and that didn’t help him in the case. He glanced at Vulpecula and asked her what she had chosen for her classes. 

“Care of Magical Creatures and I did sign up for Divination but Dumbledore reassigned me to Study of Ancient Runes.” 

The boy nodded, taking the options into consideration and ultimately picked the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if she was lousy at them, at least he’d have someone friendly to help him. And one of those classes did, in fact, include Care of Magical Creatures. 

The next morning had Vulpecula waking up to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze. She got dressed in her robes, her white blonde hair poofy as she strolled towards the Great Hall. At the Gryffindor table, she saw Oliver Wood loading up the Quidditch team’s plate with scrambled eggs. Fred and George were flinging pieces at each other, chuckling here and there. She was on her way over until Nyla ran up to her, stopping her in her tracks. 

“Vulpecula!” She loudly whispered. “I think I know what we’re up against.” 

“Wot you mean?” 

Nyla hooked her arm with Vulpecula’s, side stepping out of the way of the students who were trying to walk in to their tables. 

“You said that every time you showed up on the scene of someone being Petrified, there was a line of spiders crawling their way outside. As if they were trying to flee the scene themselves.” Nyla spoke to her slowly and the girl nodded to let her know what she was correct. “We know that the monster could harm a Muggle-born if they look at it and spiders, they have unclosing eyes. They’re in danger of the creature as well.” 

Vulpecula nods slowly. “Okay, Nyla, I’m still having a . . . a hard time trying to figure out what you’re saying . . .”

“You didn’t see a Petrified spider!” Nyla grinned, speaking with her hands which was something she did whenever she was getting excited. “Hagrid taught us that spiders can sense certain creatures. Which means—” 

“Spiders know what the creature is, or at least know enough about it.” Nyla nodded eagerly as Vulpecula caught on. “But spiders can’t talk,”

Nyla then got her smirk. “An Acromantula can. And we both know someone who likes to care for huge, dangerous, and forbidden creatures on Hogwarts Grounds.”

With a deep breath, Vulpecula uttered. “Hagrid.” 

Breakfast was over and Nyla kept on telling Vulpecula that they needed to speak with Hagrid because from the year before, they had asked what type of creatures he kept as pets and the mention of an Acromantula came out. He told the girls that the pet scurried away somewhere into the Forbidden Forest but knowing Hagrid, he must’ve kept in contact with the creature somehow. 

In the midst of talking, Vulpecula set foot on the marble staircase when she heard it yet again—

**_Kill this time . . . let me rip . . . tear . . ._ **

“The voice!” Vulpecula instantly looked over her shoulder. “I heard it again.”

“The voice? The one before the attacks happen,  _ that _ voice?” Nyla turned, trying to listen in as she peered around with wide eyes. 

Vulpecula stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind her, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch. 

“It’s that time already?” Nyla baffled, going to glance down at her wrist to read the time on her watch but it wasn’t there. She frowned, patting down her pockets then clapped a hand to her forehead. “Shoot.”

And Nyla sprinted away, remembering that she had left her watch in the library in the early morning. 

“Wa . . . Nyla!” 

“I’ll meet you down on the pitch!” She shouted back, waving the girl off and while Vulpecula watched her go, she also spotted Hermione running off in the same direction. 

Joining the large crowd swarming across the ground, the Malfoy girl’s mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice. She shook her head as the Hufflepuff team strolled past her and Cedric nodded to her, earning her a slight warm smile that was honest. The rest of the team offered smiles but she could tell they were forced and insincere all except for the one girl who had defended her and Harry to Justin and her other friends. 

“They’re dead scared,” George stepped up besides her, teasing with his huge grin. “Think you and Harry will Petrify them if they get in your way.” 

Vulpecula rolled her eyes, slightly amused. “You know, Georgie, if I was the Heir of Slytherin, I’d send it after you.” She joked. 

“What a shame, I was thinkin’ about marryin’ ya one day.” 

Vulpecula then stifled a laugh. “Oh, _ please _ . Have you seen my family? You really want to be a part of  _ that _ ?” 

He shrugs. “Get a good lookin’ husband of out it.” 

She then pretended to think about it for a moment. “Tempting.” 

George then wrapped an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in close to his side and rested his chin on the top of her head. The both of them watched as the Hufflepuffs, playing in canary yellow, mounted their brooms and began practicing their drills, doing a few runs. 

They were then stopped by Professor McGonagall who held a scroll in her possession. She then promptly turned, heading straight for Vulpecula and George, her strides sturdy and long. The Weasley boy straightened himself out, taking a step away from Vulpecula and from behind them, they heard Wood leading the Gryffindor team out from the locker room to enter the field. 

“Professor McGonagall,” Wood called. 

She met him halfway, standing where Vulpecula and George were. “This match has been canceled.” 

Looking devastated, Wood replied with, “You can’t cancel Quidditch.” 

“Silence, Wood.” McGonagall warned. “You and your teammates will go to Gryffindor Tower. Now.” 

Oliver headed off with Katie, Angelina, and Alicia. Fred and George exchanged a glance before tagging along. Vulpecula and Harry were about to join until Professor McGonagall beckoned them on over to her. 

“Malfoy, Potter, we’re going to find Mr. Weasley. There’s something the three of you need to see.” 

Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Ron detached himself from the complaining crowd, running up to them as they set off toward the castle. The three followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase.

“I warn you. This could be a wee bit of a shock.” She said in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. “There has been another attack . . . another  _ double _ attack.” 

Madam Pomfrey was bending over a girl with her dark brown hair in a side braid, wearing Ravenclaw robes and Vulpecula felt her insides doing a horrible somersault.

“ _ Nyla. _ ” She gasped. 

Nyla laid utterly still, her eyes open and glassy. In her hand was her watch that she had gone to retrieve. And on the bed next to her was Hermione, her right arm sticking in the air as a shocked expression was imprinted on her face. 

“They were found near the library,” said Professor McGonagall, holding up a small, circular mirror. “Along with this. Does this mean anything to either of you?” 

Vulpecula, Harry, and Ron shook their heads, staring at their friends who were now statues.

“I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower,” Professor McGonagall said heavily. 

In the Common Room, all the Gryffindors were packed inside as Harry, Ron, and Vulpecula joined them. Fred and George, still in their Quidditch uniforms, held curious glances, motioning for Vulpecula to stand near them and she did. They whispered a few questions to her, having known that there’d been an attack on Nyla and Hermione but she kept mute. She didn’t have the power to speak, nor did she really want to. She had just seen Nyla alive and well a few moments ago and now, she was Petrified and cold to the touch. 

“Could I have your attention, please?” Professor McGonagall announced to the room and began to open her scroll. “Because of recent events, these new rules will be put into effect immediately. All students will return to their House Common Rooms by six o’clock every evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. All students will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There’ll be no more evening activities. No exceptions.” 

She rolled up the parchment and eyed the students in silence for a moment. 

Then she added, “I should tell you this. Unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will be closed.” She then turned, climbing somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking instantly. 

“That’s two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff,” Lee Jordan spoke, counting on his fingers. “Haven’t any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherin’s are all safe? Isn’t it  _ obvious _ all this stuff’s coming from Slytherin? The  _ Heir _ of Slytherin, the  _ monster _ of Slytherin—why don’t they just chuck all the Slytherins out?” He roared, earning nods and scattered applause. 

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair besides Lee, but for once he didn’t seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned. 

“Percy’s in shock,” George told Vulpecula quietly. “I don’t think he thought the monster would dare attack a Half Blood. Which then begs the question, would it attack a Pureblood?” 

Vulpecula was only half listening. She wasn’t able to get rid of the picture of Nyla, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn’t caught soon, she was looking at a lifetime back with her family in the Malfoy Manor. She remembered back to Nyla speaking about Hagrid and she scanned her eyes over Harry and Ron, the both of them whispering of a plan.

She moseyed on over to the boys and they paused in mid sentence, looking to her. “Before Nyla . . .” Vulpecula fumbled with her words and cleared her throat. “Before what happened to her, and Hermione, we came to the conclusion that we needed to speak with Hagrid about an old creature he once kept.” 

Ron gave Harry a look. “Well,  _ that  _ seems very convenient.”

Vulpecula then had an ankling. “What do you know?” 

“Tom Riddle’s journal,” Harry began to say. “I wrote in it and it spoke back to me. Showed me what had happened fifty years ago, when the chamber was opened. It was Hagrid.” 

“And how do you know?” 

“I saw it.” Harry said, but something in his voice told her that he doubted that it was actually him who opened the chamber. “Tom Riddle caught him with what looked to be a big spider in a chest. He kept on telling him that the creature hadn’t harmed anyone but Tom tried to kill it but it scurried off.” 

Vulpecula thought about it for a moment. “We  _ need _ to speak with him. Tonight.” 

“How? We’re not allowed to leave the tower except for class.” Ron gaped. 

Harry then replied, more quietly. “I think it’s time to get my dad’s old cloak out again.” 

Vulpecula went to bed at the usual time, waited until Angelina, Katie, and Lavender fell asleep, then got up, dressed again, and stuck down to the Common Room to meet up with Ron and Harry. 

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn’t enjoyable. Vulpecula, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were matching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. The Invisibility Cloak didn’t stop them from making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron studded his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and Vulpecula eased them open. 

It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid’s house and pulled off the Cloak only when they were right outside his front door. 

Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face to face with a crossbow. 

“What’s that for?” Harry was puzzled. 

“Oh, nothing,” he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. “I was expecting . . . Doesn’t matter. Come on in. I just made a pot of tea.” 

Vulpecula took notice of how he hardly seemed to know what he was doing as they stepped in and closed the door behind them. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, then kept on filling the cups with more and more tea to the point of it overflowing. 

“Are you okay, Hagrid?” The girl asked politely. 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” He tries to shrug it off. 

Harry licked his lips. “Did you hear about Hermione?” 

“And Nyla?” Ron added. 

“Oh, I heard about that, all righ’.” Hagrid remarked, a slight break in his voice as he kept glancing nervously at the windows. 

“Look, we have to ask you something.” Harry began again. “Do you know who opened the Chamber of Secrets?” 

Hagrid took a deep and long sigh. “What you have to understand about that is—”

A knock sounded on the door and Fang began barking.

“Quick, under the cloak.” He ushered to the three who wore panic stricken looks. 

They all fumbled over in a corner as Ron threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves. Hagrid checked to see them hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more. 

“Oh, Professor Dumbledore, sir.” 

“Good evening, Hagrid. I wonder, could we . . . ?”

“Of course. Come in. Come in.” 

Dumbledore entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd looking man. He had rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression, wearing black clothes. Under his arm he carried a bowler hat. 

“That’s Dad’s boss,” Ron breathed to Harry. “Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.” 

“Mine too.” Vulpecula peered her eyes on the man. 

Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. 

“Bad business, Hagrid, very bad business. Had to come. Three attacks on Muggle-borns, one on a Half Blood. Things’ve gone far enough. Ministry’s got to act.” 

“I never,” said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. “You know I never, Professor.” 

“I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” Dumbledore frowned at Fudge. 

“Albus, look, Hagrid’s record is against him.” Fudge told him, uncomfortably, “I’ve got to take him.” 

“Take me?” Hagrid trembled. “Take me where? Not Azkaban prison!” 

“I’m afraid we have no choice. Hagrid.” 

There was another loud rap on the door and it opened. Vulpecula watched as her father strode into Hagrid’s hut, swathed in his long black traveling cloak, his hair back in a tie, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl. 

“Already here, Fudge,” he said approvingly. “Good.” 

“What are you doin’ here?” Hagrid grew furious. “Get outta my house.” 

“Believe me,” Lucius began and started wandering along the cabin, inspecting it. Vulpecula made her and the boys back up as he neared them. “I take absolutely no pleasure being inside your . . . You call this a house? Hm.” He then turned, facing Hagrid again. “No, I simply called at the school and was told the Headmaster was here.” 

“Well, what exactly is it that you want with me?” Dumbledore spoke politely but there was fire blazing in his blue eyes. 

“The other governors and I have decided it’s time for you to step aside.” He then raised a long roll of parchment, “This is an Order of Suspension. You’ll find all twelve signatures on it. I’m afraid we feel you’ve rather lost your touch. Well, what, with all these attacks, there’ll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts.” 

Lucius then turned on his heel after handing the scroll to Dumbledore and made way for the three children again as he eyed the fireplace. His eyes lingered. 

“I can only imagine what an  _ awful _ loss that would be to the school.” 

Hagrid then spoke loudly, his voice shaking the very floor. “You can’t take Professor Dumbledore away. Take him away, and the Muggle-borns won’t stand a chance. Possibly, not even Half Bloods if we’re at it! You mark my words, there’ll be killings next.” 

Lucius then faced the man once more, quirking up an eyebrow. “You think so?” 

Dumbledore then interjected before the large man could say more. “Calm yourself, Hagrid.” He then looked at Lucius Malfoy. “If the governors desire my removal, I will, of course, step aside.”

He then took a step forwards towards the man, not taking his bright blue eyes off him. 

“However,” Dumbledore spoke very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, “you will find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” 

And in that very brief moment, Vulpecula saw how Dumbledore’s eyes flickered toward the spot where she, Harry, and Ron stood hidden. 

“Admirable sentiments,” said Lucius. “Shall we?” He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. 

Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited. “Come, Hagrid.” 

The man then cleared his throat, speaking obnoxiously. “If, uh, if anybody was looking for some stuff, then all they’d have to do would be follow the spiders.” He nodded. “Yup. That would lead them right. That’s all I have to say.” 

Fudge stared at him in amazement. 

Hagrid then pulled on his moleskin overcoat, heading out the door but stopped. “Oh, and someone’ll need to feed Fang while I’m away.” 

The door banged shut and Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. 

“Hagrid’s right,” he said hoarsely. “With Dumbledore gone, there’ll be an attack a day.” 

Vulpecula then noticed a few spiders on the one windowsill and crawling outside. “‘Follow the spiders’.” She muttered, remembering Hagrid’s words. 

The girl moved fast, calling the boys to follow her as she left the cabin. She pulled out her wand, murmuring the Lumos charm and a tiny light appeared at the end of it. Harry called to Fang, grabbing a lantern and followed after with Ron who shut the door behind them. 

A long line of spiders were crawling about, traveling straight for the forest line and Vulpecula figured as much. If Hagrid had kept a creature such as an Acromantula, the only place it could live would be in the Forbidden Forest which was thick and dense, and very treacherous. 

“Let’s go.” 

“ _ Wot? _ ” Ron gaped at her as she began following the arachnids with Fang, voice cracking a bit. “They’re heading into the Dark Forest.” He turned to Harry.

Harry then eyed him, and stated, “He did say to follow the spiders.” 

Ron then moped as they strode off. “Why spiders? Why couldn’t it be ‘follow the butterflies’?” 

By the glow of Vulpecula’s wand and the lantern, they followed the steady trickle of spiders moving along the path. They walked behind them for about twenty minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Then, when the trees had become thicker than ever, so that the stars overhead were no longer visible, and Vulpecula’s wand and Harry’s lantern shone in the sea of darkness, they saw their spider guides entering a tunnel in the ground that ran under large tree roots. 

They followed the darting shadows of the spiders and came out where tree roots and stumps covered the entire area. They kept on continuing until they came to reach the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees so that the stars shone brightly down and upon a misty, domed web that was massive which made Fang pause and stand at attention. 

In a raspy voice, a man spoke. “Who is it?” 

Fang growled and Vulpecula pet his head to try and relax him. 

“Hagrid? Is that you?” 

The sound of what appeared to be branches broke thunderously, seemingly signaling from all around them to the point that Ron began to panic. 

“We’re friends of Hagrid’s.” Harry said. 

A long hairy leg then popped up from the hole in the ground before the giant web, then another and before they knew it, a spider the size of an elephant emerged very slowly. There was grey in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head had black cataracts. He was blind. 

“And you . . . You’re Aragog, aren’t you?” Harry puzzled, his heart had left his heart to pound in his throat. 

“Yes. Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before,” he said slowly. 

“Hagrid’s in trouble, “ Harry breathed very fast. “Up at the school, there have been attacks. They think it’s Hagrid. They think he’s opened the Chamber of Secrets like before.” 

Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by a few spiders that were sneaking up onto the scene. “That’s a lie. Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“Then you’re not the monster?” 

“No. The monster was born in the castle.” Aragog defended. “I came to Hagrid from a distant land in the pocket of a traveler.” 

Ron then tugged on Vulpecula’s sleeve, whimpering her name. She peered around, seeing more and more spiders. Not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves that they’ve followed. Spiders the size of chairs, eight eyed, eight legged, black, hairy, gigantic. 

Harry kept on speaking with Aragog. “But if you’re not the monster, then what did kill the girl fifty years ago?” 

“We do not speak of it.” Aragog said fiercely. “It is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others.” 

“But have you seen it?” 

“I have never seen any part of the castle, but the box in which Hagrid kept me in. The girl was discovered in a bathroom.”

Vulpecula snapped her head down, the pieces fitting together as she gazed to Harry. “Moaning Myrtle.” 

Aragog continued. “When I was accused, Hagrid brought me here. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me.” 

A loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many long legs shifting angrily captured Harry’s attention like how it caught Ron’s, him seeing large black shapes surrounding them. 

Vulpecula readied her wand while she backed up slowly, keeping her eyes peeled on the creatures. “Thank you for your help, but we must go.” 

“Go?” Aragog replied slowly. “I think not.” 

Ron whimpered, seeing the spiders getting closer and closer. 

“My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid on my command, but I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friend of Hagrid’s.” 

“Can we panic now?” Ron asked. 

A spider went to attack but Harry smacked it away with the lantern and took out his wand along with Ron, the both of them going back to back with Vulpecula as they all stared down the creatures. There were too many of them, all clicking, and their many eyes gleaming in their disgusting black heads. 

Then, to their right, came a sudden blaze of light. Mr. Weasley’s car drove, thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of Vulpecula, Harry, and Ron and the doors open, inching towards the three like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner. 

“Fang!” Vulpecula yelled, diving into the back seat with the boarhound. Harry ran for the front seat and Ron got into the driver’s, the doors slamming shut. 

Ron didn’t touch the accelerator but the car didn’t need him; the engine roared and they went into reverse, speeding up the slope and out of the hallow. The crashed through the forest, branches hitting the windows as it landed and everyone settled. 

“Glad we’re out of there!” Ron said breathlessly. 

Just then a spider ran up to his window, its pincers going for his neck and Ron tried to pry them off, his face turning beat red. Vulpecula raised her wand and shouted, “ _ Arania Exumai! _ ”

A blue stream of light erupted from the tip, blasting the spider away from Ron and the Ford Anglia. 

Now free and slightly stunned, Ron gazed to her and gulped. “Thanks for that.” 

“No problem.” 

Harry kept his stare forwards, seeing the numerous spiders traveling up the slope to peer down at the car. “Get us out of here. Now!” 

Throwing the car into reverse and spinning it around, Ron hit the pedal and sped them through the forest through the widest gaps. Vulpecula whipped her head back, seeing the hundreds of spiders that were coming for them and she focused forwards, seeing a fallen tree ahead that already had a few spiders awaiting for them. 

“You can get us into the air right, Ronald?” Vulpecula poked her head up between the boys, side glancing at the Weasley boy. 

He nodded, placing his left hand on the stick and tried to push it down but the gear grinded. “The flying gear’s jammed!”

The closer and closer they got, the more Harry grew antsy and began helping Ron with the gear. Come on! Push!” 

“I’m trying!” Ron shouted back. 

Vulpecula then added her hand, yanking back on the gear then shoved it down. Up in the air they lifted off from ground, smacking a few spiders in the process which caused Fang to howl loudly. 

After ten minutes, the car slammed down onto the ground, the hood smoking as they all got out in one piece. Fang shot to Hagrid’s house, tail in between his legs. Ron regained the feeling in his limbs and Harry was stiff necked. 

“Follow the spiders.  _ Follow _ the spiders!” Ron shook his head. “If Hagrid ever gets out of Azkaban, I’ll kill him!” 

The Ford Anglia then started out, driving itself back into the Forbidden Forest as the boys just watched, flabbergasted. Meanwhile, Vulpecula was already on the move to get back into the castle with or without the Invisibility Cloak. As of that moment, she was only thinking about two things. One: Hagrid was innocent, and two: Moaning Myrtle was the victim of Slytherin’s monster. 


End file.
